Eyes of Emerald Green
by Inks Inc
Summary: His eyes had always been one of his strongest features. They were a bright, twinkling green, usually alight with laughter. But when his predecessor unexpectedly comes to town, Tony's eyes shine with a different shade of green. The green eyed monster has well and truly been awoken, but how will he be put back to sleep? WARNING: Spanking. Gibbs/Tony, Father/Son. NOW COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

Tony looked up with a wide smile as the new intern sashayed into his direct line of vision. Leaning back and tapping a pen against his teeth, his eyes twinkled as they roved over Becky's tight pencil skirt and her soft pink blouse. Rolling her eyes at the obvious appraisal, the newbie threw a glance in the direction of Gibbs' desk. There was something oddly horrifying yet appealing about the man, and despite the age gap, she knew who she would pick if the choice was DiNozzo or his boss.

"Is he in?"

Tony died a little inside but kept the smile plastered firmly on his face. This was happening with an alarming frequency these days. Must be an older guy thing. Taking comfort in his supreme youth, he shook his head. "Nope, out on urgent business. As in, coffee. Anything I can do for you?" She hesitated, before shrugging. Turning, she beckoned a previously unseen figure over. Tony quickly racked a gaze over the visitor. Little older than him maybe, reasonably to very good looking. Definitely on the job, oddly familiar. His confusion flitted across his face as Becky cleared her throat.

"This is Agent Stan Burley. He's currently an Agent Afloat, but used to be stationed here for a few years, with Gibbs. He's in town for a while, and just wanted to catch up for a couple of hours." She held out a pink form to Tony who was staring wordlessly at the smiling Stan. "I just need a senior agent's approval to issue a visitor's pass." She clicked a pen under Tony's nose. "So, could you?" The pink form seemed suddenly garish as Tony reached instinctively for it. Seeing Becky's impatience grow, he blinked and scrawled his signature across the page as she handed a lanyard to the now official visitor.

"I'll leave you all to it then."

And she was gone.

Stan smiled widely at a rising Tony, and held out a hand. Accepting it slowly, the slightly younger man noted that it was a firm handshake, good eye contact. Definitely assertive, but not arrogant. "So," Burley grinned, "You're the new me, huh?" Dropping his hand and nodding slowly, Tony forced a smile to his face. "New model, upgrade if you will," he quipped, "So…what brings you to town? Other than a catch up with Gibbs?" He barked out a laugh that sounded unnatural to him. "You do realise he's not exactly the cuddles and chats type?"

Burleys laugh, irritatingly pleasant, echoed around the bull pen.

"Oh that I do," he chuckled, "Truth of the matter is, I'm actually thinking of hanging up my afloat boots. Just scouting around to see what's available." He shrugged. "Figured Gibbs would know if there's anything knocking about." He threw a gaze over Tony's desk and laughed easily once more. "Don't suppose you think two chairs would fit at that station huh?"

Tony stared with clouding eyes.

"No," he blurted out loudly, "I don't think they would."

Breezing over the sticky moment with a natural charisma, Stan bared his white teeth in a smile.

"Didn't think so. My knees, you know? Can't risk jamming them up anymore than they already are." Clearing his throat, he threw a hand over to Gibbs' desk. "So, where is the boss anyway? Coffee run?" He glanced over at the clock and shook his head with a grin. "Definitely coffee run time. So, Tony isn't it? How're things around here? Been here long?"

Before Tony could even answer, McGee and Ziva swept into the bullpen, bickering loudly.

Stan whistled lowly under his breath.

"Wow. Who is _that_ fox? Please tell me she's single?"

Tony felt an inexplicable urge to deck this Stan character soundly between the two eyes.

"She's not," he gritted out in a lie, "Married in fact. Pro body builder, pretty hot temper too."

He took an enormous satisfaction as the handsome lines of Stan's face fell. To his annoyance, he quickly bounced back with a shrug and a gleaming smile as Abby suddenly meandered out of the lift. Roving his eyes over her unique dress sense, he turned to Tony hopefully. "Ok, she can't be married to an angry pro body builder too? How do you rate my chances?"

The younger agent smirked slowly with a shrug.

"Of Gibbs breaking both your arms if you look at her for two seconds longer than you should? Oh…I'd say those would be the best odds in the city. She's like his daughter." Stan's face fell once more, uplifting Tony's spirits some. There was no real or reasonable reason why he should take such an instant dislike to Burley, but if he were to think about it rationally, he would know why. He was a threat, this Stanley. He was the old him. He had history with Gibbs, he was in town looking for a job, and he had a very clear way of getting along with people that irked Tony to no end. He felt threatened, and he felt jealous. Not that he'd ever admit that to himself, let alone anyone else. But, the fact of the matter was he wanted Burley out.

Immediately.

"Listen," he muttered curtly, "We're kind of busy at the moment, cases and all you know? I'm sure if you leave a number, my boss will get back to when he has time." His gaze lingered over Burley's strong jaw, and he sighed. "If he has time." He didn't realise he had subconsciously emphasised the ' _my'_ in his statement. If it was jarring, Stan didn't seem to notice.

He bit back the "or the inclination."

Somehow, he just knew that the inclination would be there.

"Naw, that's ok," Burley smiled, "I'll just hunker down and wait out of your way somewhere. But, you know, I could always lend a hand on whatever case you're working." He threw his hand towards Tony's desk once more. "I got plenty experience, and many hands make for light work, right?" Wondering briefly if it would be churlish to put a fire guard around his desk, Tony forced a tight smile as he shook his head. "No, the Boss doesn't like outsiders working his case," he declined rudely, "But you can sit in the break room, if you really want."

Stan smiled as he shook his own head.

"Don't think I count as an outsider," he countered lightly, with a still friendly tone. "Gibbs taught me pretty much all I know. I'm sure he wouldn't mind. I could maybe," he threw his head discreetly in a snarling Ziva and Tim's direction, "get to know her a little better? See if it's worth invoking the ire of an angry husband." Such was their bickering; Ziva and Tim weren't paying any attention to the visitor, assuming he was there on routine business. Over the dull roar about driving like a snail on crack, Tony quirked a brow and pursed his lips stubbornly. "I really don't think that he-"

"DiNozzo, you got that report I asked uhh….Burley?"

Former and current senior agent swivelled instinctively on the spot.

"Yes Boss?"

Tony's eyes swivelled to Stan in irritation as they spoke in tandem. Sweeping in, coffee in hand and landing in front of both past and present second in commands', Gibbs' face broke into a smile that made the present part of the scenario scowl. "Stan….the hell are you doing here?" He grinned widely at Burley, and Tony's scowl became set in stone. "Let me guess, you stepped in a big old pile of crap and need a hand out?"

Grinning at the jibe, Burley shook his head good naturedly.

"Not quite Boss, sorta on the unemployment heap at the moment, as a matter of fact."

Gibbs frowned heavily.

"What happened?"

Stan shook his head reassuringly, and Gibbs visibly relaxed. Seeing this obviously protective response set Tony's teeth on edge, as he was effectively forgotten where he stood. "I'm just a little too long in the tooth for the afloat game now Boss," Stan explained in his irritatingly pleasant voice, "I'm looking for something more stable. More regular, I guess. I was actually hoping that you might know of any gigs pending? I'm not all that fussy." He laughed, flashing his white teeth. "Figure if I was able to stick it out with you for years, I'm ready for pretty much anywhere anyway."

Gibbs laughed.

 _Laughed._

Tony's eyes bulged in their sockets.

At the sounds of Gibbs' chuckle, even Tim and Ziva quit their bickering and Abby took a breather from refereeing, as all three stared over. Their argument proved more alluring after a moment, and the three returned to their huddle, leaving Tony to continue staring incredulously. "Suppose you might have a point," Gibbs admitted, still grinning, "How long you in town for? You got somewhere to stay?" Stan shrugged, "There's a hotel not far from here, I'll swing by when I leave."

Tony closed his eyes slowly as he instantly saw where the conversation was headed.

"Don't be stupid," Gibbs grunted, "What's the point in paying a hotel when I got plenty of room? The doors unlocked, I'll be finishing up here soon. Why don't you drag your sorry ass over? There's steak in the fridge."

Stan visibly brightened.

Tony visibly darkened.

"You sure Boss?"

The quailing look that was sent his way saw Stan's pleasant laugher waft over the bull pen once more. "Of course you're sure, but give me a break man. I'm a bit rusty here." Raising a brow, Gibbs shook his head. "You were always a bit rusty Burley, and always a pain in my ass." Spluttering with laughter, Stan rolled his eyes at the clearly light teasing and shrugged. "Well alright then, dinner will be on the table when you get home dear. I'll make sure and wear something pretty for you."

The headslap drew a yelp from the former second in command, as he rubbed his hair in chagrin.

"Shoulda seen that coming."

Gibbs smirked and threw a hand over his shoulder. "Uh huh, you shoulda. Now go on and get out of here before I decide to put you to work for once in your life." Nodding with a grin, Stan turned to Tony and nodded politely. "Good to meet you, I'm sure we'll be seeing a bit more of each other." He glanced over at the bickering trio, and smiled a little wider. "I'll just introduce myself to the rest of your new gang and be on my way Boss. And…thanks."

Nodding, Gibbs rolled his eyes.

"Yeah yeah, go on now…get."

Waving at a non-responsive DiNozzo, Stan sauntered past both agent in charge and second in command. Over Gibbs' shoulder, Tony could easily see that Burley was quickly ingratiating himself with McGee and the girls. His teeth, already on edge, scrubbed together even more painfully when a sudden thought hit him.

"Boss?"

Swigging a scalding sip of coffee, Gibbs threw a glance in Tony's direction as if seeing him for the first time since he'd come back from his caffeine run.

"Hmm?"

Tony cleared his throat. "Well…it's just tonight; you said you would help me fix that beam in my apartment. My landlord is coming to town next week, and she's not a woman to be messed with…" Gibbs stared for moment as Tony trailed off, having completely forgotten his agreement to lend his carpentry skills. "Aw hell DiNozzo," he eventually murmured, "Slipped my mind. Listen…I'll get it to another day, before she gets here. Dunno how long Stan will be in town, so let's grab a rain check, ok? Actually, you can handle things here for the rest of the day right? I want to check with a few contacts, see if we can't find Burley a job. Ok?" He was gone from his sight, telling the other three he was wrapping it up early, before Tony could mutter a quiet "Ok…"

The elevator doors opened and swallowed Gibbs up a moment later.

Slumping back into his chair, Tony let out a long sigh as he stared unseeingly at his desk. He didn't register the rumblings of the other three around him; none of them seeming to care that Stan could be in town to stay. Paperwork loomed large in front of him as he stared with clouded eyes. He needed to get a grip on himself, he was being ridiculous. He knew that, logically. But…still, it rankled. He didn't like Stan, didn't want him around. He definitely didn't want him in Gibbs' house, eating steak cooked over the open fire, drinking beer on the couch…

His brow wrinkled as his scowl deepened, the image infiltrating his headspace.

The smiling git would probably park his ass down in _his_ spot, just to add insult to injury.

His scowl reached epidemic levels as he sat and brooded, the afternoon sun steadily setting to the backdrop of his inner frustrations

A decision…rash, illogical and yet gripping as all hell began to seep into his mind as time dragged on.

There was no way Stanley "the original probie" Burley was staying in town.

Not on his watch.

….

 **Batch Update A/N:** Haven't posted for a while due to worrying health issues of a close family member/job pressures. Things look good on both fronts now thank God, and I should be back to my normal updating, now that I have a lighter headspace. A huge thanks to everyone for the reviews/messages asking how I was. I truly appreciate them, you guys are great, and thank you for your patience! All other stories will be update soon!

 **A/N(2):** I've had this idea rattling around my brain for a while, so just going to see where it takes me! I find a jealous Tony of Gibbs' affections, an adorable Tony!

….


	2. Chapter 2

The day dragged on in the most painful fashion. Tony was totally disengaged as he sat at his desk and brooded. McGee and Ziva having bid farewell to Abby were typing diligently at their computers. Silence blanketed the bull pen, no-one had spoken since Tim and Ziva had declared what a _nice guy_ Stan seemed to be and how it was _nice_ for Gibbs to have him around for a bit. Tony didn't realise he could grow to hate a simple word so quickly. Nice? He grunted slightly as he thought back on it. He didn't find one thing about the situation nice, not a single thing. He didn't find Stan with his too perfect teeth, his crinkly eyes and the perfect hair _nice._ He was irritating, he was clearly fake as all hell and to top it all off, he was a frigging usurper.

Tony's brow furrowed as he chewed agitatedly on his pen.

He was nice. He, Tony, was nice. He did nice things. He even helped old Mrs Davidson to her apartment the other day with her groceries. The fact that old Mrs Davidson had a very young, very beautiful Ms Davidson for a granddaughter had nothing to do with it. He was just nice. And yet, nice and all as he was, he was sitting on a mountain of paperwork whilst Stan the freaking man pottered around Gibbs' house. He didn't even register Ziva and Tim suddenly hovering over his desk looking mildly bemused.

"Huh?"

"I said," McGee repeated patiently, "That it's time to go. Nothing more to be done here and with Gibbs gone we may as well take advantage of a reasonable finishing time. We're thinking of grabbing some dinner, Abby too, you coming?" Shaking out of his stupor Tony shook his head as he plastered on his cloak and dagger grin. "No thanks," he declined gracefully, "Got better plans tonight, I'll let that little probie mind of yours join the dots." Rolling his eyes, Tim nodded and decided to leave Tony to one of his many dates. Both Ziva and he bade him a cheerful farewell, unaware that the man's humour was like cow dung, and laughed their way to the elevator. Hearing the doors slide closed, Tony let out a deflated sigh.

He did have plans tonight.

Well, he had.

To say thanks to Gibbs for fixing the beam in his apartment he'd rented the old man's favourite western and got in his favourite beers. Embarrassment seeped through him as he pictured Gibbs' face if he knew he was sat at his desk sulking because they weren't having movie and beers together. Standing abruptly he grabbed his jacket and swept from the bullpen. He had decided, quite cleverly in his opinion, that something smelled distinctly fishy about Stan's story. He was far from too old for agent afloat detail. From his ogling of Ziva and Abby he was clearly single and had deluded notions of his own physique. So if it wasn't a girl calling him to port, then what was it? Stepping out into the car lot the stiff breeze hit him square in the jaw and he blinked rapidly.

The air to the face operated as somewhat of a very bizarre wake up call.

He was overreacting. Gibbs was hardly going to just turn around and clear out his desk and hand it back to Burley. He closed his eyes as he breathed deeply and tried to empathise. If it were him gone from under Gibbs' tutelage, he would be likely to return a couple of years later to catch up. The fact that Stan was racking at the Boss' place stung, sure, but that was Gibbs. His house was like a free for all with a door that was literally never locked. It didn't mean anything; it didn't mean anything at all. Reaching his car, he leant against it for a moment before a certain lightness spread through him.

Stan had come, and Stan would go. It was that simple.

Slipping into his car his face reddened slightly as he recalled the call he had made to an old buddy that he had served with in Baltimore. Ray was a private investigator now, and a very expensive one who provided results that were almost frightening in their thoroughness. He had listened to Tony's murmurings, in a stall of the NCIS bathrooms, and had been hesitantly sympathetic. Of course his old friend had left out his true intentions in inquiring as to what could be found out about one Stan Burley, but he was still hesitant. It was, as he had expressly told Tony, a very risky endeavour to go poking about in the Navy as a civilian. It was more than probable that scuttlebutt would spread like wild fire and make its way back to Tony as being the instigator.

Tony had conceded that there was not an insignificant degree of risk involved. No matter how delicately Ray sniffed around, there was a high probability that Stan's most recent commanding officer would be discreetly tipped off, who out of a sense of duty would alert all other reasonably recent commanding officers. That meant that there was only one commanding officer in line before Gibbs. And if that call came to the Boss man, he wouldn't let the matter drop until he found out who was sniffing about his beloved damned Burley. It wouldn't take long for the truth to come out. As he slid the car into gear, Tony was suddenly and fervently grateful that Ray had talked him out of initiating the absolutely free investigation until he'd had some more time to think about it.

All it would take was one more ten second phone call to set things in motion if he still desired.

Shaking his head in chagrin, Tony made his way home quickly and slumped down on his sofa. What he needed was a night in with some pizza and Magnum PI, and all would be right with the world again. Accepting the pizza from the takeout guy some thirty minutes later, all thoughts of Stan Burley were rapidly leaving his brain as he feasted on reruns from his favourite show of all-time. It was an hour or so later as he polished off the last cold crust that remained that it caught his eye. Gibbs' ancient pocket knife had a bit of a legacy about it, and when he had misplaced it a couple of days ago, all four of them had suffered his foul humour. The knife had been grudgingly replaced by another ancient spare, but it was as they were repeatedly told, not the same thing.

Seeing the wizened handle glinting out from behind the sofa cushion where his feet rested, Tony instantly righted himself and seized it. A grin crossed his face as he remembered Gibbs' rather maniacal searching of his car for the damned thing. He'd be delighted to have to have it back. Turning it over in his hands, the young agent's brow creased. He knew how he would be if it were his lucky cap or his stapler that had been lost. He'd want it back, where possible, as soon as practical. Glancing at the clock, Tony saw it had barely gone ten. Gibbs would be up, but Stan would probably be tired from travelling. He could be there and home within half an hour.

The roads were empty as his car trundled along containing a singing Tony DiNozzo. He didn't care what McGee said, Bieber had really upped his game recently. It wasn't long before his car was swinging into the familiar driveway. Deciding that if he left as soon as possible he could get back before the pizza place closed and pick up just one more slice. Opening the door as was his custom, he was about to just leave the knife on the hall table and holler to alert Gibbs' attention. Before he could do so, low voices caught his attention and he quickly discerned they were wafting up from the basement.

Shrugging, Tony reached out to place the knife down and leave when his own name caught his attention. The voices were clearer now that his ears were accustomed to the quiet of the house and he could hear with relative ease. His brow furrowed as he realised it was not Gibbs who spoke his name, but Stan.

"I'm just saying, I'd easily be your right hand man again Boss," the disgustingly pleasant voice laughed, "Just kick that DiNommo guy out and I can start tomorrow." Gibbs' chuckle rang out lowly in response. "It's DiNozzo," he corrected mildly, before falling silent. Tony's heart quickened as he stood frozen in the hallway, unheard by the basement dwellers. "Well, whatever," Stan muttered, "Are you really saying that guy makes for a better second in command than I did?"

Tony waited with a breath that died screaming in agony in his throat.

He waited for Gibbs to tell Stan that he was a better second in command, that even more importantly he was _his_ second in command. But he never did. Silence once again met Burley's words, but his laughter rang out. "Thought as much," he snorted, "Seriously Boss, the kid is just an overgrown frat boy for crying out loud. You need a grown damn man on your six. I clocked his card the moment I laid eyes on him, what with lying to me about Agent David being married. I mean how transparent can one guy be?"

Sweat trickled down Tony's brow as he remained frozen in time.

"Seriously Boss, you deserve better for your second in command."

Gibbs cleared his throat.

"One day at a time Burley, one day at a time."

The room was oddly out of focus. The chairs seemed to be too big for their positions as they loomed large and baleful in front of him. Unable to see or think properly, Tony acted on instinct. Placing the knife back in his pocket he turned and as stealthily as a cat, he swept from the house. His heart hammered painfully against his chest as the dull ache of betrayal began to beat on him. Slipping into his car, he slid it as quietly as possible from the driveway before coming to an abrupt stop as soon as he cleared Gibbs' block. Resting his head on the wheel for a moment, he suddenly whipped his cell from his pocket and punched in a memorised number.

It connected on the third ring.

Tony didn't mince his words.

"Start the investigation Ray. Start it now, tonight."

…..

TBC

…..


	3. Chapter 3

Tony didn't even glance up as Gibbs entered the bull pen the next morning. Whilst no members of the team were unused to early mornings, it was rare for one of them to beat the bossman in. Landing to a halt in front of Tony's desk, Gibbs sipped his coffee and raised a brow. "You're early DiNozzo; to what do I owe the honour?" Barely looking up from the file he was note taking from, he shrugged loosely. "Went for an early run, thought I'd just come straight here afterwards." With that, he summarily threw his head back down into the file, leaving Gibbs slightly open mouthed in his wake.

He was about to question the kid further when a team-lead from another unit strode into the bull pen, seeing his advice. By the time he'd finished discussions with the man, Ziva and McGee had ambled into the communal area and were booting up their computers. Deciding to just let Tony's odd and new found love of mornings slide, Gibbs shrugged it off and focussed on the day ahead. There was a deadened ache in Tony's gut as he cast furtively scathing looks over at his boss. The conversation he had overheard last night continued on a loop in his mind. He couldn't get Burley's voice out of his mind and neither could he stop furtively checking his cell.

But Ray hadn't called.

Silence reined for about an hour until the call came through. Dead body on a college campus, odd ritualising, mass hysteria of students. Body was redressed after the murder in dress whites along with the dog tags of a mysteriously disappeared Marine ten years ago. "Grab your gear," Gibbs added as he explained the case and headed towards the elevator. As the doors slid closed, encasing them all in the metal box, Tony unconsciously shuffled away from Gibbs, his eyes downcast. Ziva and McGee were so busy arguing about the possible meaning of the redressing that it wasn't noticed.

"DiNozzo, when we get there, you interview the students."

Tony snapped his head up with a sudden anger and raised a brow.

"You think they'll open up to me more because I'm an old frat boy is it?

His voice was low and cool and it instantly stalled McGee and Ziva's arguing as they looked at him in shock. Gibbs said nothing for a moment as they slid between the floors, merely gazing at Tony almost thoughtfully. Eventually, he cleared his throat. "You got a problem with how I allocate tasks, DiNozzo?" Tony shrugged nonchalantly, earning himself gaping mouths from his teammates. "Just asking is all, seems I always end up being the one babysitting the overgrown, irritating children."

Gibbs bristled.

"Welcome to my world."

He didn't know it, but that was about the worst thing he could have said in that moment. Ziva and Tim threw of the boss' comment with discreetly rolled eyes. But to Tony…the barb was directed to him and him alone. A coldness seeped throughout him as he recalled Gibbs' silence in the wake of Burley's labelling of him. Stan had called him an overgrown frat boy and the man he looked up to the most in the world, hadn't disabused him of that notion. Now, in the cold light of day, he seemed to fully support the conclusion.

Tony's teeth gritted together.

"I could always stay behind, if you prefer?"

Gibbs shook his head in confusion that was tinged with a healthy dose of anger. "What the hell is going on with you?" he demanded, not caring that the doors of the elevator were now opening and Ziva and McGee, respecting Tony, had fled the box. "What's gotten into you? You don't answer me back or question my decisions like this, you damn well know it. Have you lost your mind?"

Tony once again shrugged and it was all Gibbs could do not to seize him by them and shake him.

"Just making sure I'm performing as well as I can Boss. Doesn't seem like I can do that when I'm continually the one hand holding the hysterical witnesses. But, my bad, you're right. I should never question a single word you say." He plastered on that false smile that Gibbs hated. "I think I ran a little too hard this morning, shook something loose in my brain. Won't happen again."

Silence billowed between the two as Gibbs shook his head.

"Oh no," he muttered, "I know there's something more to it than that. What is the matter with you?"

He forced himself to drop the hard ass tone as he threw out a hand to stop the doors closing, noting with gratitude that McGee and Ziva were nowhere to be seen.

"Tony? Is everything ok with you?"

The suddenly soft tone that was more house Gibbs than office Gibbs caught Tony off guard and he opened his mouth nervously. He didn't want to come right out and question what he had heard last night, but he desperately wanted answers. He struggled for a moment, his mouth opening and closing. Just when he thought he'd found the words, the cell in his hands shrilled. Glancing down, Tony saw a message from Ray shining up at him. It was short, sweet and to the point.

"Got something."

Tony clamped his mouth shut on the words he was going to say and found new ones.

"Just got out of bed on the wrong side this morning Boss," he murmured, allowing a falsely apologetic note to creep into his voice. "I'll work on it," he added with that maddening smile, before gesturing at the open entrance. "Can I go now?" Knowing that he was going to get nothing from Tony when he was slipping into his class clown persona, Gibbs sighed in disappointment. There was something going on and he knew it, but if he pushed, he knew he would be locked out. Nodding shortly, he cleared his throat. "Yup, but first and final warning. No more attitude."

Tony nodded swiftly.

"Got it Boss."

And then he was gone, hurrying out into the lot, his head buried in his cell. He didn't even wait for Gibbs to get out of the lift as he barrelled down the hall. Watching him go with a shaking head, Gibbs was distracted by the shrieking of his own cell. Thinking it to be the LEO's on scene, he quickly foraged for it and flipped it open, blinking in the last of Tony's back with a frown and a growing sense of unease in his gut.

"Gibbs."

His eyes widened after a moment as he felt confusion lap him.

"Burley, calm the hell down man. What do you _mean_ I've been looking into you?"

Suddenly, Tony's disappearing act made a whole lot of sense as Gibbs felt the bottom of his stomach fall out. It wasn't long before the shock morphed into anger and the anger morphed into angry hurt. Speaking lowly and quickly into the phone he began his own entrance into the car lot, his mind whirring under the extreme change his morning had taken. He run off the call with sharp words infused with an even sharper intent.

"I'll look into it and sort it out, Stan. You have my word."

…

TBC

…


	4. Chapter 4

Gibbs met the awaiting trio at the car and noticed instantly that there was no scuffling for shotgun. Usually Tim and Tony would unravel into an unholy brawl for the best seat, whilst Ziva slipped in quietly and just dared them to move her. This time however, Tony was leaning against the back door waiting for the car to be unlocked with his arms folded, not even looking at Ziva or McGee. Eyes narrowing, Gibbs unlocked the car from a distance and all three were ensconced before he slipped into the driver's seat. Tony stared out the window and ignored the curious gaze that was pinging off his shoulder. The last thing in the world he wanted to do was to explain to his own probie that his job was under siege.

He was gripped by a sudden image of Tim becoming Stan's probie and his teeth gnashed together fiercely.

Hearing an odd explosive noise coming from Tony, McGee felt his brows shoot up. There was something seriously odd about the senior field agent and he clearly wasn't willing to share. Given the scene that had been played out moments before, he decided to stay schtum in front of Gibbs. The car was uncomfortably quiet, the absence of Tony's chattering being oddly magnified as they sped along. Fifteen minutes later, although it felt like fifteen hours, they screeched to a halt outside the awaiting college scene and clambered out simultaneously. Racking his gaze over the campus, Gibbs worked rapidly. "Ok, Tim you're on photos. Ziva, you're on sketches, Tony you're on-"

"Student interviews, yes I know," Tony mumbled in irritation, his earlier promise to drop the attitude seemingly forgotten as his task was up for discussion. Gibbs felt a flame of anger tongue its way through him at the sullen tone. "Ziva, McGee get going," he barked. They strode away as quickly as their legs could take them and Tony made to follow. Throwing his arm out, Gibbs caught him soundly round the chest and stopped him in his tracks. "Didn't I just talk to you about that damned attitude of yours?" he growled, "The hell is the matter with you? You keep this up, and you can take yourself back to the yard, park yourself behind your desk and get damned comfortable there."

Tony blanched at the tone.

He needed to keep it the hell together.

"Sorry Boss."

The headslap was a searing one and Tony yelped at its force. Gibbs leant right into the personal space of his protégé and spoke in a terrifyingly calm tone. "That is your final warning. One more wrong word from you today and things are going to get very unpleasant for you." He stepped back out of Tony's space and raised a brow. "Have I made myself clear, or would like me to repeat myself?" He bristled visibly. "Again."

Resisting the urge to rub the back of his head, Tony nodded respectfully.

"Crystal clear, Boss."

Gibbs considered him for the longest moment, before pointing in the direction Ziva and Tim had taken. "Student interviews. Now." Moving quickly, Tony made his way to do just that feeling the elder agent's eyes on him all the while. He cursed himself for wearing his heart on his sleeve, it was plain idiotic. His hand desperately sailed to his cell and he barely managed to pull it away every time. Gibbs caught him on a personal call in the middle of a case after everything today, he'd end him. Ray would just have to wait.

As he moved to question his first witness, working hard to keep the resentment of his face as the young woman screeched at him dramatically, his mind was firmly on Stan. Maybe he was a murderer, or an adulterer. Maybe Ray had found evidence of treason or large scale embezzlement. As the girl collapsed into his arms and sobbed on his shoulder, he fervently hoped it was life altering, whatever it was. It seemed like several lifetimes had passed before the scene had been effectively processed.

As Ducky and Palmer arrived and departed with the body, the remainder of Team Gibbs sloped back towards the car. Gibbs strode in front with Ziva whilst Tim deliberately hung back. Falling into step beside Tony, he quirked a brow. "What is going _on_ with you today?" He gestured at their boss' retreating back. "He is going to kill you if you keep this up." His brow fell into lines of concern. "What's wrong? Is it a case, a girl?" He shook his head. "Whatever it is, you need to sort it out before it gets you headslapped into next year."

Tony rolled his eyes and quickened his pace.

"Don't know what you're talking about probie."

Tim stared. "Give me a break Tony, you're acting weird. Have been all morning. Will you just spit it out already? Maybe I can help…" he glanced worriedly at the slightly older man, "Maybe there's something I can do. But you gotta stop back talking Gibbs like you're doing. It's a suicide mission." Watching Gibbs throw himself into the car, a spark of anger lanced through Tony. "Sometimes I think we're too damned concerned on how we treat the boss," he muttered darkly, "Maybe it would do him some good to be treated how he treats us. Respect and loyalty aren't a one way deal McGee."

With that, he sped up and left Tim in the dust.

He therefore didn't see the look of sheer shock that crossed the junior agents face.

When the car was once again refilled and en route, Gibbs was listening to Ziva's recounting before turning to Tim. Digesting his point of view on top of Ziva's, the eldest of the four raised a brow in the rear view mirror at his second in command. "DiNozzo? What did you get from the students you interviewed?" Snapping from his reverie that mainly involved Stan languishing in a very unfriendly jail, Tony tore his gaze away from the window and cleared his throat. "Not much. A lot of histrionics and conflicting testimony. Kid was a popular jock, lots of friends, no drink or drug issues. Seems like there's no on campus motive."

Gibbs nodded and the car once more lapsed into silence.

Tony spent the car trip longing for it to end so he could call Ray. Mercifully, it didn't seem to take as long to get back to the yard and he was soon striding from the car. He was several feet away before Gibbs' hollering brought him back to earth. Turning back, he raised a brow and saw all three were still by the car and staring at him in incredulity. "DiNozzo! Get back here," Gibbs thundered, causing two secretaries crossing the lot to scurry away. Slouching back and thrusting his cell back into his pocket in frustration, Tony took a deep breath and threw a fake smile on for good measure.

"Boss?"

If Gibbs were to routinely gape, he would have been picking his jaw right up off the ground. "I was in the middle of telling you to gas the damned car and you decided to take a little walk." He threw the keys over the hood and Tony caught them instinctively. "If you'd be so kind to listen to me this time, could ya get this damned thing filled?" Looking down at the keys in his hands, Tony grimaced as irritation pierced him. Gibbs was literally assigning him menial tasks just to get to him. "You know we have guys for this, right?" he asked, not bothering to hide the coldness entering his voice. "We're not supposed to be the ones to gas the vehicles."

Ziva and Tim once again felt their eyes bulge as they looked at the senior field agent.

One shared look at the expression on Gibbs' face and all four of their legs worked in tandem.

They sped from the car heading towards the safety of the bull pen.

Whatever the hell was going on, they didn't want to get sucked into it.

"What did you just say to me?" Gibbs practically whispered in a silky voice that just screamed blue murder. The wind ruffled his hair as he stood alone with his right hand man in the quiet lot. "What the hell did you just say to me?" He strode around the side of the car to place himself right in front of Tony, his eyes flashing in anger. "Didn't I warn you that I'd had it with your attitude? Didn't I make myself clear that you were on your final warning."

Tony shrugged.

"You'll have to excuse me," he muttered sarcastically, "Must be that whole frat boy thing I have going. I never know when enough's enough I guess. I'll just gas the car and think about many shortcomings, as per your intention." Gibbs' eyes strained with indignant shock as he stared at his uncharacteristically lippy second in command. Anger bubbled in the pit of his stomach like molten magma and his hand twitched involuntarily towards the buckle of his belt. A cool breeze ruffled across his face and it had an oddly calming effect, causing his hand to fall away. He took an inordinately deep breath and scrubbed a hand over his face.

"Alright Tony," he said quietly, "It's over now, alright? Whatever the hell it is that's going on with you, it's over. You need to get a handle on yourself and spit out whatever it is that you got up your ass. I'm not putting up with another minute of your attitude, so let's have it. What is your problem?" He watched carefully as Tony looked at him silently for a moment. He had already decided that his suspicions that Tony had had anything to do with inquiries into Stan were utterly unfounded. He actually felt a bit bad about jumping to conclusions about the kid. He'd sworn to himself after a disastrous misunderstanding on his part some years back, never to assume anything when it came to Tony. So as he looked at him now, he had no idea what was going on. But he knew something was.

"There's nothing to spit out Boss," Tony eventually sighed, "I'm just having bad day. Can't a guy have a bad day?" At Gibbs' expression held up his hands. "OK, apparently he can't," he conceded, "I'll keep a check on it ok. No more attitude." Feeling his cell vibrate in his pocket he felt the urge to whip it out. "Can I go?" he asked quietly, slapping Gibbs with elevator déjà vu. "Only, I need to follow up on my interviews. Make a few calls."

Gibbs felt an impossible weariness sweep over his as he scrubbed his eyes.

Pushing now would be wildly counterproductive. That as it may be, he was battling the urge to shake answers out of Tony as they stood in the quiet lot. Taking a deep breath he willed himself to keep his cool. He would find out in due course, he always did. But he would much rather, just for once, to get out in front of one his fours problems instead of always chasing their tails. Clearly his wish wasn't about to be granted and he easily recognised they both couldn't stand out in the car lot all damned day. That as it was, he wanted crystal clarity to sprinkle over his second in command.

"You listening to me, Tony?"

The sandy brown head nodded instantly.

"You can go, but this is your last opportunity to tell me what's wrong before I found out on my own. We both know I will and we both know it would be better if I heard it from you. I don't care what it is or what you've done, this is your opportunity to tell me. If you don't and I find out about it later, whether it's in five minutes or five months…I am going to be seriously pissed. And you know that wouldn't be good for you. I mean it and this is my last damned word on the matter. Now, is there anything you want to tell me?"

Feeling slightly sick, Tony managed to widen his eyes in innocence.

"No Boss," he muttered, not meeting Gibbs' eye. "There's nothing. Honestly there's nothing wrong."

Sighing deeply and feeling disappointment creep over him, the elder agent nodded brusquely. He knew he wasn't getting the truth and the truth of the matter was, he didn't really expect it. Tony still battled with trust issues and he knew that it would take a lot more time under his wing before that would substantially change. Taking in the ashen face in front of him, he for the millionth time cursed Anthony DiNozzo Sr. This could have been a simple admission and a simple outcome. But Tony wasn't raised that way, he wasn't raised with a safety net. He was always waiting for his tentative net to break and Gibbs knew he had to continue strengthening that net for many years to come.

"Alright then," he grunted gruffly, "Get back to work."

Feeling intensely relieved that he was being dismissed, Tony nodded and turned away sharply. So intense was his haste to get away from Gibbs that he didn't realise his sharp movements jerked his cell from his pocket. Hearing the small thud as he considered dashing for a coffee run, Gibbs moved forwards and instinctively plucked up the ridiculously expensive phone that he many a time had to pry from Tony's hand. "DiNozzo," he hollered in exasperation, hoping the damn thing wasn't broken. He really wasn't in the mood to listen to a full days lamenting over a frigging phone. Turning, Tony instantly recognised the cell in Gibbs' hand and felt his earth shift underneath him. As the cell vibrated violently in his hands, Gibbs instinctively looked down.

It was too late. As Tony broke into a run, he knew it was too late.

 ** _"Tony, ring me back when you get this. I think I made a mistake about Stan, the investigation you wanted was too linear. Something seemed like something…but its turning out to be nothing. Sorry man, give me a call and I'll give you the blow by blow. –Ray."_**

The message gleamed up at Gibbs in complete innocence, the simple words causing more damage than the sharpest of knives. Looking up in shock as his second in command came to a panting halt in front of him, Gibbs was utterly lost for words. Glancing down at the message on the display, Tony felt the cold hand of sickness weave through him. He had kept meaning to alter his privacy settings, but he'd never gotten around to it. Looking at the expression on Gibbs' face, Tony briefly considered sprinting from the car lot and never returning. He couldn't think of anything to say, all he could do was stare in horror from his cell to his boss.

Gibbs eventually cleared his throat.

"Well well well," he muttered darkly with a glacial tinge that made Tony's insides shrink, "I think you have some explaining to do, Agent DiNozzo."

…

A/N: I was thinking of making this into a longer fic focussing on the Tony/Gibbs relationship. Thoughts?

_Inks

….


	5. Chapter 5

Tony stared at his paler than pale boss and his brighter than bright cell. His whole world crumbled around him as his knees threatened to crumple in tandem. His breath caught in his throat as the thin window of disappointment began to descend in Gibbs' eyes. He hated that look. He much preferred the uncontrollable rage that sometimes shone there. The cold disappointment…was always too much to bear. As easy with words as he was, they failed him in that moment. What was there to say? He'd been wrong about Stan and now he looked like an absolute sociopath in front of the one man whose opinion he truly cherished. His stomach churned uncomfortably as he stared motionlessly.

The wind hugged his cheek and snapped him back to life.

It was true, he would come to realise, that flight or fight is sometimes the only damned option. As he saw Gibbs stare at him with that incredulous shock, tinged with that unbearable disappointment, he knew he didn't have the gumption for a fight. He needed to go, he needed to get away. Snapping his agape mouth shut, he reached out and yanked the phone out of a shocked Gibbs' hand. Within another blink of an eye, he was gone, racing out of the car lot with the speed that only his natural athleticism could provide. Before Gibbs' jaw could fully hit the ground, the retreating back of his second in command had vanished from his sight. He stood and stared at the lot gates for an eternity before he realised there was no longer any use in gaping at the empty exit.

Tony wasn't coming back.

Not anytime soon anyway.

Gibbs turned slowly on his heel, his head and heart heavy. He was not a man accustomed to confusion, but as he trudged into the Navy Yard, minus his right hand man, he was utterly bewildered. That bewilderment was accompanied by a heavy sheen of rage, offset only slightly by gnawing worry. He was furious, utterly furious with Tony. But for the first time, he didn't understand his second's reasoning whatsoever. Stan had been nothing but friendly to Tony and didn't in any way provoke suspicion. If he wasn't curious as to his former second's reappearance, then no-one else should be. His brow puckered deeply as he stormed through the halls. It made no sense. It made absolutely no sense. But the one thing that struck a chord, a furious chord was, Tony had absconded from his post in the middle of a case.

And that…that was one hell of a no-no.

Tony's heart hammered painfully in his chest. He was walking…he didn't know where. His car was in the Navy Yard lot and he'd rather walk to San Bernardino than go back for it. The sidewalk was deserted and airy, bathed in a pleasant heat. But he felt trapped and scorched. Cars passed him in a colourful daze as he trudged on, his mind whirring. He was going to wake up. Any minute now, he was going to wake up from this nightmare. Because this had to be a nightmare. Because, in order for his life to continue, he couldn't have been caught out in his most histrionic of moments. A small gurgle of despair worked its way up his windpipe. Just as he was about to set into a fresh wailing of self deprecation, the conversation between Gibbs and Stan in the basement reared its ugly head.

He frowned deeply.

In his defence, they'd pretty much been knocking a few back with the butt of their entertainment being him. Stan had openly mocked him and Gibbs…had done nothing. Tony knew deep in his gut that if he had said something like that about Burley, he would have gotten a serious headslap and an even more serious lecture. Yet Stan could waltz back into his life and run he, Tony, down? Without so much as a reproving word. Hurt kindled like a flickering fire in his gut. He was entitled to be a little cheesed off about that, right? Who wouldn't be? Gibbs always bleated on and an about the inherent importance of loyalty, yet the minute his back was turned, he was stabbing him in it.

The frown deepened to epidemic levels.

He had every right to be pissed off. There was no rational explanation for that conversation. There was no way Gibbs could explain away his part in it. There had been no misunderstanding, only simple and base level disloyalty. If someone from his past had spoken about the boss like that in front of _him…_ they'd be shown the door. And it had happened, in the past. A couple of his old college pals, who were in the very comfortable private sector with weekend retreat supporting bosses, couldn't believe Gibbs was a real human. And they definitely couldn't believe that Tony actually wanted to work for him. Tony was an easy going guy, but when they'd started running Gibbs down…he'd shot that conversation down in a manner that had them shutting their mouths, double time.

But apparently…that kind of loyalty was a one way street.

And he was very much the only occupant thereof.

Suddenly, he was thirsty. Very thirsty. A small part of him screamed in protest. He was still on the clock. He'd walked out on an active investigation. There was shame, on that count. He felt ashamed of bolting from his post…but not enough shame. Not quite enough shame was present to stop him from taking a sharp left and heading towards a seedier part of town. The part of town he knew no law enforcement drank in. The part of town that had bars with dark, dusty corners and snarling barmen. The part of town where he could be alone with his woes and his woes with him. Anger bubbled with a viscous hurt as he strode faster and faster from the physical and metaphorical path of correctness.

He was going to get blitzed.

And he was going to forget.

Gibbs slammed his way through the doors of autopsy, coming to a grunting halt in front of the ever patient Dr Mallard. Sterilising a rather fierce looking piece of equipment, the elderly Scot raised a welcoming brow as he assessed the tormented looking Jethro. He easily deduced that the impending conversation would require coffee. Silence blanketed as he pottered around his small kitchenette type shelf and procured two steaming cups. Nodding his thanks, Gibbs breathed in the usually soothing aroma deeply, but found no comfort. Ducky examined him silently for a moment, before clearing his throat softly.

"What is troubling you so, Jethro?"

Gibbs grunted around the rim of his mug and shrugged.

"The usual."

Ducky raised a brow as Gibbs grudgingly elaborated with a sigh.

"DiNozzo."

"Ah," the elder man murmured, "And what seems to be the trouble with young Anthony today?" He suddenly looked concerned. "Is he ill or in need of assistance?" Gibbs snorted through a scalding sup of coffee as he shook his head. "He's in need of a good kick up the…" He trailed off with a deep breath. "I don't know where I went wrong with him," he continued softly, almost to himself. "I don't even know half of what does on in his brain. I just don't _get_ it….these things he does. Not to mention the lies…right to my face."

Ducky frowned deeply.

"What has happened?"

Gibbs slowly began to recount the tale of recent events, confusion freely colouring his voice. He was too caught up in his tale to notice a corresponding lack of confusion play across the doctor's face. When he retold the disappearing act his second in command had played, Gibbs' voice became less softly confused and more angrily glacial. As he snapped his mouth shut when the whole sorry tale had been explained, Gibbs was once again consumed with bewilderment. Ducky however, was doing his very best to bite his tongue.

"Forgive me Jethro, I do not wish to be insensitive…but surely you see what is ailing dear Anthony?"

Gibbs growled.

"A pink slip is what'll be ailing him when I get my hands on him."

Ducky clamped down on his lip and thought his words through before he uttered them.

"Jethro…can't you see that the boy is jealous?"

Gibbs' jaw sailed downwards as his eyes bulged. "Excuse me? What in the hell is he jealous about?" He shook his head roughly. "He's not five years old, Duck. Whatever his problem is, he sure as hell isn't going to act like this and get away with it. He ran out on his post in the middle of a damn case. I've fired men for a hell of a lot less. He'll be lucky if he had a desk in his hellhole come tomorrow morning, jealous or not."

His eyes swam in anger.

"Just what in the hell is he jealous about? Some woman, I suppose."

Ducky stared sadly. He knew his friends tirade and threats of firing were all in the moment. The really worrying fact was that he was so oblivious. He scrubbed his eyes tiredly and stared into his coffee. "How has Tony been getting on with Stan?" he asked quietly, "Aside from the…investigation of course." Gibbs shrugged with a sigh. "Fine, I guess. What's not to like? Stan's a good guy, I would have thought he and Tony would get on like a house on fire. They're not that dissimilar. I…just don't get it."

Ducky cleared his throat and decided to hell with tact.

"For an intelligent man Jethro… at times, you can be an absolute imbecile."

Gibbs mewled in indignation.

"DiNozzo launches an unauthorised and unprovoked investigation into Stan, who's never done a wrong to him, and _I'm_ the imbecile?"

Ducky nodded sagely.

"Sadly, I am afraid you are, yes."

Gibbs grunted as he set his coffee down. "Well I guess I'll be going then. Wouldn't want to bring the tone of your autopsy down with my…imbecile like behaviour." With that, he turned on his heel and had nearly cleared the floor before Ducky could peel apart his lips. "Oh do come back Jethro," he rebuked lightly, "I think one escapee is quite enough for the day, don't you?"

Gibbs grudgingly pivoted.

"You gonna explain to me what's up DiNozzo's ass if I do?"

Ducky blinked.

"Certainly."

Gibbs slowly returned to his side of the autopsy table, levelling the doctor with a glare.

"Well then? What's up his ass?"

Ducky sighed at the vulgarity and raised a brow.

"His prostate, I should hope."

Gibbs growled in frustration, his need for answers sending his patience levels into the minus figures. A banging headache was beginning to spread from temple to temple. Worry was also consuming him, nestled in the pit of rage in his gut. Tony was out there somewhere, spiralling. His cell was off, he'd tried, even though he'd known it would be off. He didn't have the foggiest clue what was going on, and it was exhausting. He looked at his old friend with an uncharacteristic hint of pleading in his eyes, before an even more uncharacteristic word pooled from his mouth.

"Please, Duck."

The elder of the two felt his own eyes widen as he nodded and cut right to the chase.

"Anthony is jealous of Stan. He feels threatened by him. Stan is the old Anthony. You have a relationship with him and he's here on a job search. It would be as if a former colleague of Jenny's came to town, looking for a team-lead role. You would be jealous too, and not just of the threat to your job. You know that Anthony didn't have the most...idyllic of childhoods or…father's. Like it or not and believe it or not, you're the closest thing to that that he has. And to him, Stan is here to take that from him."

He sighed and looked softly over at the astonished looking Gibbs.

"He thinks Stan is here to take what he perceives to be his, Jethro."

He raised his mug in Gibbs' direction.

"He thinks Stan is here to take _you."_

If he was hoping Ducky's answers would ease his headache, he should have bought Tylenol. His mind keened as he stared wordlessly. Scrubbing a hand across his eyes he took a couple of clarifying breaths. "Take me?" he eventually managed to echo faintly, "Duck, have you seen me? I'm not exactly a delicate flower that ya can shove in your pocket. I'm a human, and a grouchy one so I'm told. How or why could Stan… _take_ me?"

Ducky rolled his eyes.

"Always so literal. What I mean to say, is that Anthony fears Stan will take his place in your estimations Jethro. Not you physically, but you emotionally." Seeing the confusion still etched on his old friend's face, the kindly ME resisted the urge to engage in some headslapping himself. "Dear god man, he's worried that he'll be kicked out to make room for Stan. Is that clear enough for you or should I perhaps paint a placard?"

Gibbs suddenly saw the light.

But it was one of those stupid flickering lights instead of a strong, dependable torch light.

"Why didn't you just say that?"

Ducky turned slightly beet red in agitation and opened his mouth to launch into a lengthy admonishment. Across town on the other hand, there was something but a profound silence to keep Tony DiNozzo company. He twirled his turned off cell around on the grimy bar top as he down his fourth beer, contemplating adding a chaser to his next order. No matter what that text from Ray said, he still had a gut feeling that something was amiss about Stan Burley. Not that Gibbs would ever believe him. He'd never accept there was something untoward about his golden boy, especially after the fiasco of the day he was trying to forget. As he decided that he was going to have that chaser, Stan Burley himself leaned back in Gibbs' favourite arm chair, with a wide smile spreading across his face. Answering the trilling cell in his hand, the smile widened even further.

"Well hello Ray. I'm glad to say you've played your part well. Your debt is paid, for now."

Snapping the cell shut without another word, he leaned back further and chuckled lowly.

Everything was going to plan.

…..

Batch Update A/N: Batch Update A/N: Thanks a lot for the reviews/messages asking how I am due to the break in posting. I've just been super busy is all! Just another thank you for all the feedback, especially to guest reviewers who I can't message (Fan, GuestG etc, you guys are great), and to all readers! Until next time.

_Inks.

….


	6. Chapter 6

Slumped on a park bench with his phone firmly switched off, as it had been for the several blocks he had sprinted, Tony felt his world come crashing down around him. His fringe was plastered to his forehead, clinging to an adhesive of nervous and athletic sweat. His heart pounded, his lungs contracted and his stomach heaved. His breakfast threatened to make reappearance. He was done. It was over. He would never be able to show his face around NCIS again. He was a laughing stock as far as Gibbs was concerned. The one person whose concerns he actually gave a damn about. He felt like he was choking on his own embarrassment. He had been wrong about Stan. He'd launched an unauthorised, subversive investigation into a fellow Agent for no reason. And now Gibbs knew. And now there was no way things were ever going back to where they were.

His face burned in the balmy afternoon air.

Anger was burning in another as he stormed back into the bull pen. Gibbs had been furious with Tony on more occasions than mathematicians had numbers for. But this took the biscuit. This took the entire biscuit tin as a matter of fact. It was just so _stupid._ It was just so _pointless._ He caught the worried look McGee shot him as he landed like a rocket at the other side of his desk. "DiNozzo's cell. Track it and do it now. And don't ask questions. Just do as I say." He was too angry to even care that he was snapping at the innocent Timothy. A part of him that he refused to acknowledge in his ire was worried. Very worried. When Tony got those sort of idiotic notions into his head and was then confronted with those notions…he didn't deal well. He ran, like he had just done. And if Gibbs' gut and experience were anything to go by, that usually meant he was running straight for trouble.

Tim's hands flew across the keyboard as he stared like a demonic dragon.

His face fell.

"Phone is turned off, Boss. Last ping was from a cell tower about three blocks from here."

Gibbs' stomach churned.

He knew Tony wasn't anywhere near three blocks from headquarters.

He would have run until he couldn't run anymore. And for a naturally gifted athlete, that was a hell of a lot of running. And if he had the presence of mind to switch off his cell, then he was reeling and he was over thinking. A dangerous combination. He nodded curtly at McGee and strove to remain professional. They were in the middle of a case. He couldn't just abscond like his second in command had done. There would be no leadership if he did and that was something he couldn't tolerate. Feeling the fire flare up in his gut again at the position Tony had put himself and them in, he grunted. "Get back to work then, I'll be in MTAC. Call first." That last order was projected enough to be aimed at the silent Ziva, who nodded quietly.

As Gibbs stormed from the bull pen, they cast worried looks at one another.

Tim shrugged miserably at her inquiring stare.

"Whatever happened out in the lot, it isn't good," he surmised quietly. She nodded slowly and shot him another look to which he shook his head to. "No. If we go out looking for him, then the whole team is out on other business while we have an active investigation. We can't do that." He swallowed. "Besides, I get the impression that this is something strictly between them. Best we leave them to it." Ziva reluctantly agreed with that assessment. She had long since learned that Tony and Gibbs had a peculiar relationship and that sometimes they were best left to themselves. They turned grudgingly back to their work, each hoping silently that Tony was ok.

Wherever he was.

Gibbs wasn't anywhere near MTAC. He was breathing in deep gulps of air at the side of the building, trying to think clearly. It was a mess. It was a red, hot mess. His cell shrilled and his heart sank when it wasn't Tony's name flashing. "Stan," he greeted quietly, "What's up?" Listening carefully to the timbre of his old boss' voice, Burley smiled a sly smile. He knew. He didn't know exactly how he knew, but he knew. He made a mental note to throw a dog sized treat of praise to Ray. Or maybe to the lumbering buffoon that was Tony. Knowing him and his three year olds reason, he had probably gone crying to Gibbs about him off his own back. However it had come about, it brought a smile to the man's face as he stretched out in Gibbs' armchair.

"Boss…I don't mean to bother you," he hedged in a hesitant voice he had perfected, one he knew would garner a response. "Just spit it out Burley, I haven't got all day," Gibbs snapped. Stan barely swallowed a chuckle. It was almost too easy, too perfect. "Right," he answered quickly. "I just wanted to talk to you about…." He drew out his hesitation to a perfect mark. "Tony. I just wanted to talk to you about Tony." Gibbs closed his eyes and wished he was somewhere away, somewhere far away. Somewhere where they didn't even speak English. "What about Tony?" he asked wearily, unsure as to the extent of Stan's knowledge into Tony's inexplicable sleuthing.

"He's been having me investigated. He was the one who launched it."

This was all said with an air of wounded shock and disbelief. Even Gibbs couldn't tell it was coming straight from the mouth of the architect to Tony's demise. His eyes clenched tighter still as he nodded pointlessly. This was the last conversation he felt like having. A droplet of rain fell on his face as he sighed deeply.

"I know."

Stan timed his moment of silence to thespian perfection.

"You…what….I….." He allowed himself a self satisfied smirk. "How do you know?"

Gibbs growled deep in chest. "I just do," he answered shortly. "How do you know?" Stan was ready for this question and answered as if reading from a well versed script. "A buddy of mine from my afloat days. He heard the scuttlebutt and thought I ought to know. He's a solid guy; he wouldn't have called me with the info unless he was sure of it." He allowed a brief moment of silence before continuing, in a voice of great indecision. "And…well, I guess it just makes sense as well. I had a gut feeling…but didn't want to press it, wanted to be wrong…."

Gibbs chewed his lip.

"You had a gut feeling? About what?"

Stan's eyes sparked with malevolent glee. "That Tony…well that he didn't like me very much," he replied in a perfectly balanced apologetic tone. "And I get it, you know? I do. Here I am muscling in on his territory; it's only natural that he wasn't going to take to me. I should've made more of an effort, I should've called first. Shouldn't have just marched in like a bull in a china shop. Damn, Boss…I didn't mean to cause all this trouble." He allowed another moment of silence to reach perfect pitch, before he adopted an effectively strong tone. "Maybe it's best if I just get out of town. There are plenty of places for me to cool my heels whilst I sort myself out, I-"

"Quiet, Burley." Stan happily fell silent, his plan unfolding in front of him like a beautiful carpet. It was all about the pacing. Nothing too slow and nothing too fast. An organic infestation as opposed to a ham-fisted invasion. He would stealthily, silently and slowly ingratiate himself on Team Gibbs. He would slither in and be so darned likeable that they would throw open their windows for him, that they would be the ones to provide the slithering trail.

And all the while, Tony's hot run would be getting colder and colder.

Because, as always, there was only room for one second-in-command.

And it was going to be him. It was his position, one he had rightfully earned and reluctantly released. And now he was back and now it was going to be his once more. And nothing or no one was going to stop him. He'd planned his return in military detail. He had planned all possible and conceivable reactions and outcomes and was prepared for them all. So far, it was all going better than he could have possibly hoped for. He hadn't counted on the sheer usefulness of Tony's very obvious and childish possessiveness and jealousy when it came to Gibbs. It was tragic in a way, but without it, he wouldn't be getting as far as he was as fast as he was.

"You're not going anywhere," Gibbs grunted gruffly, "This is Tony's problem and he and I are going to…deal with it. He will be apologising to you and he's never going to do something like this again. Alright? That good enough?" Stan had to physically clamp a hand over his mouth to prevent the triumphant chuckle that threatened to break loose. He quickly composed himself. "Boss, no, please…please don't make a thing out of this with him. This is my bad. I shouldn't have come on so strong with him. You know what I'm like. He was probably just freaked by me." He allowed a magnanimous tone to creep in. "I'm more than willing to just forget all about this if you and Tony are. Besides, I shouldn't be in your hair for too much longer. There's no sense in falling out with your main man over something like this."

Gibbs growled.

Stan beamed.

"That's the damned point Stan; I don't _expect_ this from my main man. He will be apologising to you and that's non-negotiable." He carded a hand through his hair in agitation. "I don't know what's gotten into him. He's never like this; he's the best second in…." He trailed off, suddenly awkward. Stan seized the unexpected nugget and went with it. "It's ok Boss," he laughed airily, "I can see he works with you better than I did, which is why I really don't want to come in between that. I mean it; you say the word and I'll be out of here. He probably needs you more than I do right now anyway, all things considered."

"Oh he'll be getting me," Gibbs promised darkly, "Don't you worry about that. Look, Stan, I gotta go. Got a case on. I'll be home later. This'll be sorted, don't worry about it. I think I might have some job prospects for you as well. I'll see ya later." With that, he was gone and Stan was left to stretch out further and enjoy the rewards of his efforts. Flicking through his cell, he smiled even further when he saw the number he had requested had been sent to him. She was a beauty, which was always helpful, was Miss Ziva David. DiNozzo couldn't have made it any more obvious that he was head over heels for her. Not that he stood a chance. But he did and she would be an amazing addition to his belt. He would slowly but surely creep into Tony's life and take everything that mattered to him.

And in doing so, amass everything that he wanted.

It was a beautiful plan.

And poor old Tony not that he knew it, was playing his part rather wonderfully.

The imbecile.

Not knowing that he was writing the own scene to his doom, Tony wandered meaninglessly through the downtown streets of DC. He found himself slouching into a café and ordering coffee and a sandwich from an overly enthusiastic waitress. Slipping into a booth at the back where he could be alone with his misery, he dropped his head into his hands. He had thought and thought and thought.

And he was still doomed.

His cell sat like a lump of coal in his pocket, useless. He didn't dare turn it on. Didn't dare listen to the messages of enraged disgust he knew would be on there. Tony was a cop's cop and therefore running out on an active investigation made him sick with guilt. That guilt on top of all his other guilt and shame was about too much to take. He glanced down at the coffee and sandwich that had just arrived in disinterest and picked at it. He thought of Tim's, Abby's and Ziva's faces when they learned of his stupidity. They all _loved_ Stan. Thought he was the best thing since sliced bread. It was then that Tony realised how ugly jealousy truly was.

And where it could lead you if you weren't careful.

Where it could put you. Where it could keep you.

On your own.

…

TBC

…


	7. Chapter 7

The engine choked off slowly as he sat motionless in the familiar driveway. Dusk had truly set in and curtains were being drawn and lights were being flickered on all around him. His heart hammered in his chest and a pocket of bile had settled in his windpipe as he stared at the house. The light was on in the living room and a fire was crackling in the grate. The curtains were open as usual as would the door be if he could find it in himself to get out of the car. Gripping the steering wheel tightly Tony took a dizzyingly deep breath. He had to do it. He just has to get out and do it. His legs were jelly like as he clambered slowly from the safety of the car and walked miserably up to the door. It took everything he possessed to reach out and twist the handle he'd twisted hundreds of times before and push the creaking door inwards.

His stomach clenched painfully at the sight that greeted him.

Sat side by side on the sofa he'd sat side by side on, Gibbs and Stan were midway through matching plates of succulent steak. Their heads turned in sync away from the ancient TV set when he awkwardly tumbled into the living room. They both stopped mid chew and stared. Both faces were neutral for a moment before changing. Stan's morphed into a carefully cultivated and casual expression of friendly interest. Gibbs' morphed into a dark, steaming anger and disappointment. Stan offered a chirpily muted "Hey DiNozzo, how's it going?" before courteously getting to his feet and taking his plate and Gibbs' and heading to the kitchen calling behind his shoulder.

"I'm actually beat tired so I'm gonna head up to the rack. See you guys' in the morning."

Tony stood stock still as Gibbs leaned back in the sofa to the backdrop of crockery clinking. A moment later Stan re-emerged and with a carefully jaunty wave, took the stairs two at a time. Gibbs didn't turn to look at Tony when the bedroom door snapped shut and Tony for the first time in his life didn't know what to say. Silence exploded between the two as time crawled cruelly by. When he could take it no more, Tony cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Hey Boss."

Still not turning his head, Gibbs stared at the screen flickering in front of him.

"DiNozzo."

Swallowing heavily, Tony slowly walked forwards and stood awkwardly in front of his once again expressionless boss. Gibbs looked stonily up at him and raised a brow. "The work day is over DiNozzo. Been over for a long time for you as it happens. Anything you want to say can be said at work, in work hours. Right now, I'm trying to digest my dinner and watch the game. Is that ok with you?" Tony felt his heart still sporadically. When Gibbs was mad, he yelled. When he was really mad, he yelled and paced. But when he was really mad and really disappointed, he got stony. And right now, Tony could see he was stonier than the Berlin wall ever was. Closing his eyes briefly, he forced himself to get the words out before he lost his nerve and bolted again.

"I'm sorry I was such an ass. I was a moron and I know that now."

Gibbs stared for the longest moment before he was suddenly on his feet.

Tony felt motion sickness at the speed of the man as he strode to the basement door, wrenched it open and descended the stairs like a bat into hell. Staring at the open door for a long moment, he followed in Gibbs' wake slowly. As he stepped through the door, he closed it behind him and quickly descended the stairs. Gibbs was leaning against one work bench and he quickly mirrored his stance against another. It was a position he'd been in many, many times before with a pissed off gunny but it had been a long time since the man's anger was so tangible. The two stared at each other for a minute, before Gibbs broke the terse silence.

"I can't remember the last time I was this disappointed in you. Or anyone as a matter of fact. You ran out on active duty, you launched an unsanctioned and unwarranted investigation into a fellow agent. To top it all off, you lied through your teeth to me in the car lot when I specifically asked you what was going on and then you turn up here hours later with nothing but _hey boss._ Have you lost your damned mind? Have you finally taken leave of the few senses you have left?" His voice was rising and the sparks were flying from his eyes as he glared. "What in the _hell_ were you thinking? How dare you pull this crap? I should suspend you and have done with it. Maybe some unpaid time to think about this shitstorm you've created would do you the world of good. Actually that sounds like the perfect idea, don't you think? Can you give me _one_ good reason why I shouldn't hand you a two week unpaid benching right this second?"

Tony paled to decomposed corpse levels.

"Boss, please-"

"Boss _please?_ That's what you have to say to me? What the hell is the matter with you Tony? Why did you do this? It makes no damned sense. Stan has never been anything but decent to you and you pull this crap? Not to mention the fact that you are my second in command and we have an active case…and do you know where you were when I needed you today? I'm genuinely asking if you know where you were cos' I sure as hell don't. Do you hear that? _I didn't know where my second in command was when we were working an active case._ That, even compared to everything you've pulled through the years, is absolutely disgraceful. It's a disgrace to me, to you and to the badge. So if you don't want to be suspended then you better start talking. Cos I have no idea what's going on with you and I think it's about time you filled me in."

His eyes pooled over with rage as he spread his arms wide.

" _Now."_

Tony gaped at the unusual level of vocals and tried to find some of his own.

"I just…I just had a bad feeling about Stan," he said quietly with shame seeping into his tone. "I don't know why and I don't know why I acted on it. But I did and I'm really sorry Boss, I know you hate apologies but I am really sorry. It's like once it started I couldn't stop it and then I was in too deep and I didn't think you'd…I was too much of a coward to tell you the truth. I was too embarrassed. And I know running out on active duty is inexcusable and I feel sick about it, I swear I do. But I just couldn't look at you after you'd found out what I'd done. I know that's no excuse, cos' there is none…but I just couldn't."

He looked down at the ground and his shoulders slumped in misery.

"I couldn't look at you look at me the way you're looking at me right now."

Gibbs stared at his clearly miserable right hand man and felt a confliction of emotion. He still wanted to strangle him but there was obviously something motivating his bizarre behaviour. Ducky's words suddenly wafted around his brain as he stared at the head hanging Tony. He scrubbed a hand over his face and sighed. There was probably a more sensitive way to broach the subject but he wasn't the wishy washy type. "Are you jealous of Stan?" Tony's head snapped up and a dull flush coloured his cheeks as he shook his head jerkily. "What? No…why would I…why would you even think that….I don't know….why…." Gibbs stared and the truth sank into his eyes as he sighed. His voice was quieter when he spoke. "Don't lie to me Tony. I've had enough of that out of you today, don't add to it."

He quirked a brow.

"So try again. Are you jealous of Stan? Tell me the truth. It'll be a refreshing change for you."

Tony swallowed thickly. His cheeks were flaming as he tried to find words. Gibbs knew when he was lying and he was already in enough trouble with adding more ammunition. He shuffled painfully on the spot for a moment before shrugging. "Guess so….a little, not a lot….just a little…." He mumbled shamefacedly. "It's not a big deal or anything, or it wasn't a big deal cos' I'm not anymore…I'm fine with Stan, he's…great." Gibbs stared silently for a moment. He was torn between slapping the head clean of Tony's shoulders and ruffling his hair with reasonable gentleness.

"Why are… _were_ you jealous?"

Tony dropped his head back down to the floor.

"I don't know. He just…I dunno Boss; he's just here you know? Everyone likes him and he used to have my job and he's here _looking_ for a job. Makes sense that my job would be a good fit for him and I just got a little I dunno…paranoid I guess. Not my finest moment ok? I get that and I know it was all in my head. I acted like an idiot and I'm sorry…" He forced himself to look up and found to his relief that Gibbs wasn't laughing or looked in any way amused. "I know Stan's a… decent guy and I was the one being petty. It all just spiralled…and that's my bad and I know it. I know it's not much of a consolation but I won't ever do anything like this again." He couldn't bring up the conversation he'd overhead that had taken place in the very room in which they stood. He just wasn't ready to confront that with the man in front of him.

Gibbs stared for a moment quietly.

"Really DiNozzo, really? How in the hell could you think I'd just hand Stan your job? Is that what you think of me? After everything I've done for you, that's what you think?" He shook his head with the anger returning full force as Ducky was proven right. Tony's problem with Stan was nothing but childish pettiness and jealousy that was born out of being too far in his own head. He refused to admit to himself that he himself was also hurt that Tony could think he would do something like that. It just didn't make sense.

The anger that returned to Gibbs' eyes oddly sparked the dormant anger in Tony's gut.

"Well maybe if you didn't spend your nights drinking bourbon with him and bitching about me I wouldn't have such doubts," he blurted out bitterly, unable to stop himself. "Maybe that would help." Gibbs felt his mouth drop open slightly as he started at his second in command and his sudden shift in tone. "The hell are you talking about DiNozzo?" he demanded tersely, "What is this idiocy you're talking about? I don't know what you're-"

"Don't tell me you don't know what I'm talking about Boss. I heard you with my own ears, ok? I came by here the other night to return something you left at my place and you and Stan were down here. Stan sounded like he'd had a few and the main topic on the agenda was me. All about how I make a crappy second in command and how he'd happily take my job, because you deserve better. And you know what you said, Boss? Nothing. Nothing and _one day at a time Burley._ And then you ask me why I'm a little insecure about the permanent and pensionable part of my job? Are you serious?"

He watched as recognition kindled in the blue eyes and felt the hurt swallow him up.

"So, do you want to suspend me now or tomorrow? Might as well be now. You have your replacement sleeping upstairs. It'll be the perfect fit, right?" Gibbs shook his head. He felt a sudden urgency replace the anger in the pit of his stomach. He held out his hands and shook his head further still. He had to make Tony see what he had overhead was not he thought he'd overheard.

"Tony, you've got the wrong-"

"Don't tell me I've got the wrong idea. I'm not a moron, no matter what you and Burley might think." The hurt that Tony had been harbouring deep in his soul was beginning to morph and expand into viscous rage. "You know, I've put my neck and my life on the line for you so many times when I didn't have to. When you were on your personal crusades. And then Stan stands there and tells you what a shitty second in command I am for you and you say _nothing?_ How can you say I have the wrong idea? How can you…."

He trailed off; his conflicting emotions making him feel physically sick.

"You know what? Coming here was a bad idea. I get that I am absolutely in the wrong. I should never have done what I did and I will apologise to Stan when I see him. And you can deal with my running off the job any way you see fit. But I'm outta here, I'm not gonna stand here while you lie to my face and in the same breath ream me out for lying to you. I lied to you cos I was embarrassed about acting like an idiot. You're lying to me because you got caught out in being a hypocrite and you can't handle it."

He took another deep breath and before Gibbs could blink, was suddenly half way up the stairs.

"You know that two week unpaid suspension you were talking about? Maybe that's the best call. Cos I sure as hell ain't letting you do what you usually do when you can't even be straight with me." He wrenched open the door and cast one last angry, hurt and betrayed look down at the frustrated looking Gibbs. "Just do me one favour and make McGee your second in command while I'm gone. He's earned it and I, unlike you, won't stab _my_ second in command in the back."

With one last wounded look of rage, he was gone.

Listening to and watching the whole conversation through the bug he'd placed earlier, Stan stretched out on his bed with his voyeuristic phone and grinned like a Cheshire cat. It was all going so well, so very well. The timescale he'd set himself might even be bested through Tony's adorable little pot of daddy issues. He felt a slight stab of remorse as he looked at the crushed expression that crossed Gibbs' face as he leaned against the workbench and groaned into his hands. He quickly shook it off and spoke softly to the man whose six he'd soon be upon once more, watching him fondly as he stared miserably around his basement.

"Don't worry Boss…I'm here now."

…

A/N: I'm guilty of loving an angsty Tony, my bad! I'll fix them, I promise….eventually!

_Inks

…


	8. Chapter 8

The hammering on the door could have belonged to no one else. Tony didn't move or flinch as the hammering reached an ear splitting crescendo. He knew the key in the lock would turn soon enough. The knocking was really a courtesy without kindness. Sure enough, the knocking abruptly ended and the scratching of the lock being twisted caught Tony's sharp ears and then he was in the apartment, standing in the doorframe with an unreadable look upon his face. He cast a silent look around the room, at the discarded pizza box and the muted television flickering in the corner and sighed. His second in command looked comatose on the sofa but he knew that he was perfectly aware of his arrival. Shutting the door with a small snap, he threw himself down on the foot rest directly in front of the glassy green eyes and cocked his head.

"Tony."

A small, almost lazy clearing the throat.

"Agent Gibbs."

A sigh was bitten back.

Tony always made a point of distancing himself from him when shit was in flux. Not when he was in trouble and he knew he deserved to be, but when he felt like he'd been personally wronged. Absorbing the barb silently for a moment, Gibbs considered his words carefully. Something he wasn't used to. Scratching his head he felt hurt prickle his innards at the utterly defeated stance of his right hand man, the way he stared over his head as if he weren't even there. He tried to summon up the wisdom that Ducky would no doubt impart if he were present. Tony was hurt. He thought he'd heard something and he'd acted upon it without context. That didn't excuse him and Gibbs wasn't about to excuse him, but the record still needed setting straight.

"What you heard in the basement that night, with me and Stan…it isn't what you think."

Tony blinked.

"Ok, if you say so."

Gibbs groaned inwardly. Passive aggressive time. Awesome. He cleared his throat and rubbed a hand over his tiredly twitching eyes. "Tony, listen to me," he tried, injecting a note of sternness into his voice, something he knew to jolt the kid from his many stupors. "Sit up straight, look me in the eye and listen to me." Tony made no move to comply as he stared decidedly over his visitor's head. "I'm pretty comfortable as I am Gibbs and as this is my home, I hope you don't mind if I stay put. I didn't hear what I thought I heard in the basement. Great. Thanks for calling. That's all cleared up now and as I'm suspended, I'll drop by tomorrow and turn in my badge and gun."

Gibbs couldn't suppress the sigh that came billowing out.

"I'm not suspending you, Tony. That's a waste. I don't waste good, you know that."

The younger man shrugged.

"Whatever you say."

Closing his eyes for the briefest second, Gibbs shook his head. He was an agile man for his age and his movements were concluded before Tony had the chance to blink. He was suddenly righted from his slumped pose and was face to face with his house guest. Sitting back down on the foot rest, Gibbs stared directly into his eyes. The kid needed to listen and to do that; he needed to be open to listening. Something that wasn't going to happen with him staring into the abyss in silence.

"I'm asking you as a favour to listen to me. Same as I would you. Same as I have _done_ when something looks like something else on the surface, but it ain't that when you dig deeper. It ain't that at all. You need to know. You need to know that what you heard wasn't Stan and I running you down. You think I'd allow that? I'd smack him six ways from Sunday if he tried. I would not let him say that kind of-"

"But you did," Tony interrupted heatedly, his aloofness wearing off as the tongue of hurt licked him once more. "He said those things and you didn't smack him. You just said _one day at a time Burley._ Which basically meant he was to take his attempts on my _job_ one day at a time. You're telling me that I imagined all that? Or that its some sort of secret code you two use? Do you honestly think that I'm that stupid?"

Gibbs felt his guts clench at the raw hurt in the angry words.

"You ain't stupid. You know I know you're not stupid. No matter what mask you wanna wear, you know that. I'm not denying that Stan said those words and I'm not denying that I didn't act on them…at that moment. Do you hear me? I didn't act on them _at that moment._ And the reason why I didn't was because…well, Stan was drunk Tony. Been drunk for a long time. He's an on again off again alcoholic. That's why he's really looking for work; he got booted from his agent afloat post. I shouldn't be telling you this but I have to, so you know that in normal circumstances I wouldn't allow that kind of shit talk. If I had tried to set him straight then, when he was full of it…he'd of just escalated. I needed him to calm down and sober up. And when he _was_ sober the next morning….trust me, his head was ringing and I let him know in no uncertain terms who my second in command is. And the kind of respect I expect him to show you. He apologised and I let it go. I had no idea you'd heard or I would have dropped the apologies rule and made his ass say sorry to you."

He swallowed briefly and pressed on.

"Stan's…been going through some crap Tony. He's messed up. That's why I'm really letting him stay with me. Same as I would any of you. He's asked for my help and I'm giving it to him, I can't turn him away. He was drunk the first night when I got home, and I was trying to sober him up with coffee down in the basement. I wasn't drinking and I sure as hell wasn't encouraging a free for all on your credibility. You can ask him if you want Tony, but I set him straight. Stan…he's never been a good drunk. Always scrapping, running his mouth. It's cost him a lot and that's why he's here. He's going on the dry and I'm trying to help him out. Trust me when I tell you….Stan Burley is never going to be my second in command again."

He felt his gut clench at the painful relief that shone in Tony's eyes at his obviously truthful words.

"That position's filled. It's filled until the day that you don't want to fill it anymore. Not before."

He shut his mouth with a snap and leaned out of the kid's personal space. He'd said all he could and was harbouring some guilt about laying Stan's personal life bare. But if it was a choice between Stan or Tony, then there was no choice to make. Besides, he wouldn't say anything to anyone. He was decent and he'd keep it to himself. He watched the river of emotion flow the green eyes until Tony's complexion took on a reddened hue and he groaned loudly.

"God Boss…hell man, I'm sorry…I didn't know….I just thought….damn…."

Gibbs smiled a private smile at the return to "Boss."

"I know you didn't know, you couldn't have known."

Tony shook his head and let out another groan. "I've been such a moron. Launching that investigation, lying to you….trying to ruin Stan…." He reddened further and dropped his head. "You were right," he mumbled, "I was jealous. I thought he was here to take my job and I freaked out. I shoulda known better and I'm sorry Boss. You know how I get…acting before I think. I should have talked to you about it. I should have known that you wouldn't let him run his mouth about me, same as you wouldn't let me run mine about him."

He dragged his eyes up to meet Gibbs' and swallowed thickly.

"I'm sorry. Sorry for apologising and sorry for being an ass."

Gibbs snorted as he rolled his eyes in sheer relief. Reaching out, he slapped Tony very gently upside the head with a fond expression on his face. "Apology for apologising and apology for being an ass accepted. Tony, I know I don't need to tell you this…but not a word about Stan to the others ok? It's his shit and he has the right to keep it to himself. Ok?"

Tony nodded immediately, his pity for Stan soaring upwards.

"Course Boss. I won't breathe a word. And…." he reddened again, "I'll apologise to him."

Gibbs nodded slowly.

"Good," he praised quietly, "That's good, Tony."

There was a silence for a moment as each lapsed into their own thoughts. Relief was high in Tony's gut as he reaffirmed his place on the team and with Gibbs. But after a moment of comfortable silence another thought entered his mind and he squirmed uncomfortably. He took several deep breaths and tried to focus his nerves. He needed a clean slate to end this particular debacle, they both did. Steadying himself, he dragged his gaze up from the floor and felt his gut clench when he saw Gibbs acting upon his own thoughts, which were clearly a mirror of his.

"I guess we're moving on from the warm and fuzzy part of this conversation to the punishment part?"

Sighing as he finished unbuckling his belt and wrapping it around his hand, Gibbs nodded sadly.

"I guess so Tony, I guess so."

…

A/N: TBC

…


	9. Chapter 9

Gibbs felt conflicting emotions speed through him as he sat and stared at his second in command. Hearing the kid's version of the conversation that he and Stan had had shone an explanatory light on his strange behaviour. The attitude, the sniping. It was jealousy. And it was understandable, even to someone who suffered from chronic emotional constipation. Tony devilled with insecurity as it was due to his…father, and what he thought he had overheard was like a red rag to a bull. But at the same time, he had walked out on active duty. Something he knew to be a top of the line no-no. Something he knew was an insult to the job and a slap in the face to the team. He was already calm about the lying and the attitude, but that was something he could not let go. Sighing, he scrubbed a hand across his eyes and thought rapidly.

"Do you know what I'm angriest about?"

Sitting back in the couch and away from the belt involuntarily, Tony worried his lower lip. He knew the answer because it sat like a pouch of guilt in his gut. He had walked out on an active investigation. He, as the second in command, was utterly AWOL because he had _hurt feelings._ The more and more he thought about that very series of action and reaction, the more and more ashamed he felt. He stared down at the ground as he ran a harried hand through his hair. "I walked off the job," he mumbled sluggishly, "I was AWOL."

Gibbs shook his head. Not good enough.

"Eyes up and look at me when I'm speaking to you and speak properly."

Swallowing thickly, Tony did as he was bid. He should have known such a flat answer wasn't going to suffice. The look that Gibbs was giving him wasn't helping the situation either. It was an understanding look, a much too understanding look. They considered each other for a moment in silence as the younger of the duo thought quickly. "I was jealous," he admitted softly. Really, what was the point in denying it? "I got caught up in my head and thought things that weren't there, were there. So I took off. I'm not proud of it. But I couldn't look at you when you'd found out about Ray and the investigation. I thought you'd think I was…."

Gibbs stared much too gently at him. It was downright disconcerting.

"You thought I'd think you were what, Tony? C'mon, spit it out. It's just you and me here."

A fiery flush coloured the second in command's cheeks but he parted his lips slowly.

"A whackadoo."

Gibbs stared for the longest moment before letting out a snort that sent his deepest nasal hairs dancing in the wind. Staring at the incredulous looking Tony, he couldn't suppress the chuckle that pushed through his teeth. It was just so _DiNozzo._ Shaking his head as he sobered up, he smartly reached out and rapped the unsuspecting kid upside the head. Over the squawk, he cleared his throat. "I'm never gonna think you're a _whackadoo_ Tony. For Christ's sakes, if I were to come that opinion I would have done so a long, long time ago. I get it, alright? I'm not as robotic as you all think. You were threatened by Stan and maybe I should have seen that and acted on it. But I just didn't. I didn't even think to look for it."

Something in his gut sensed that Tony needed to hear the words.

To actually hear the goddamned words that he thought were so obvious, but were clearly not.

Embarrassment clung to him with intensity but he did his very best to push and claw through it.

"There's no choice between you and Stan. There never will be. It's always gonna be you son."

The air froze in Tony's lungs as the words he was sure he'd heard trundled down his eardrums. Gibbs. _Gibbs_ had just issued an emotional statement, designed to reassure. He discreetly pinched himself. It hurt, he wasn't dreaming. He didn't see the blue eyes toss up to heaven at his secretive nipping, he was far too consumed. Gibbs had said it, straight up. That he would pick _him_ over _Stan._ An almost disgustingly happy dance began to rear in his gut. He wasn't hallucinating. This was real. All his worries, anxieties seemed suddenly so very foolish. Gibbs didn't mince his words. If he told him that he'd choose him, then he'd choose him. Slowly lifting a sheepish gaze to meet his boss', he grinned lopsidedly.

"Should we paint each other's toes now? Braid our hair?"

The smack cracked through the room.

Tony rubbed furiously at his head.

"I'll take that as a no then."

Gibbs snorted, secretly glad the kid's sense of humour had served to rescue him from those terrifying… _feelings._ Suddenly, now that he had said what needed to be said, the belt resting in his hands seemed to weigh an ominous weight. He saw Tony's eyes flicker to it and flinch and felt sadness in his soul. Given everything…should he go ahead and do what he had partially came here to do? Tony's behaviour was abysmal, sure. He'd lied, skirted and downright flouted his authority. Not to mention disgracing his badge. But he was operating under false assumptions and even falser information. Could he write one off against the other? Would it be right? Or would it just be easy. An unusual battle warred within him. He always hated, despised and downright loathed bringing any of the four back in line. But he always knew in his heart that it was the _right_ thing to do. This time…this time, he just wasn't sure.

"Boss?"

The confused voice broke through the much longer than known reverie.

"Tony?"

The younger man blinked and threw his eyes down to the silently pressing belt. "Uhh…aren't you gonna use that now? It's just…I know I can't complain or anything…but the whole waiting part is pretty torturous. I'd rather just…get it out of the way. Not that I'm telling you what to do or anything," he added hastily, "Cos I'm not. Just…wondering, is all."

Gibbs smiled despite himself about the completely nonsensical sensible gibberish.

"I don't know, Tony," he answered with a soft honestly. "I don't know if I'm going to use it or not."

Nonplussed silence ensued.

"Huh?"

"I don't know," Gibbs repeated quietly. "Usually, you walk off the job in a huff and I'll skin you alive. But this is different. You thought you heard something you didn't, but that didn't make it any less real to you in that moment. Yeah, you lied to me. Yeah, you didn't show respect to the badge…but you're human. Sometimes I forget that. So…I don't know. I don't know if I should deal with this in the way I thought I was going to." He looked at the shocked kid. "What do you think? Be honest with me. And be honest with yourself."

Tony's brow contracted in confused concentration.

Did he walk of the job? Yes. Did he feel guilty? Yes. But…he had been in a pretty dark place. He felt as though his part in the only word he knew was being taken from him. He thought, wrongly, that Gibbs not only knew that but was an active participant in it. His head had been all over the place. Did that excuse what he'd done? No. But did he feel guilty in the same way he usually did when he messed up? No. His eyes screwed shut in concentration as a conflicting chasm of emotion jabbed at him. He didn't know the answer, he didn't even know if there was an answer. He looked at Gibbs with that confusion in his eyes and implored the man to sense what he was feeling, because there was no way he could verbalise it.

Gibbs raised a brow.

"Yeah. It's a tough one ain't it?"

Tony nodded mutely.

Silence lapped the two of them for a moment more, but then it was broken as Gibbs suddenly stood. Tony watched, mouth agape, as he easily threaded his belt back through his pant loops. Looking down at his second in command, the older man's face was unreadable. "Stand," he instructed quietly. Swallowing nervously, Tony did as he was told and got slowly to his feet so that he was nose to nose with his boss. Gibbs studied him quietly for a moment. "Are you ever going to do something like this again? Let me be clear about that. Are you ever… going to lie through your teeth to me, not trust me and run off in the middle of an active investigation again?"

Tony shook his head furiously.

"No, Boss…I won't."

Two grey brows were raised.

"I have your word?"

"My word."

Gibbs considered that carefully. He saw the truth in the kid's eyes and he also saw the regret. The regret that would be enough to prevent any repeat performances of what landed him in his apartment in the first place. Reaching out, he rapped Tony upside the head and grasped his shoulder none too gently. "Alright then. I'll hold you to that. But make no mistake…you go back on your word, you pull _any_ shit even _remotely_ like this again…and you and I are going to have serious problems. And I mean that Tony, I really do. Are you understanding me here?"

The younger man gulped.

"I'm understanding you."

Gibbs chewed on that for a moment before nodding jerkily.

"Then you owe me three weekends of unpaid overtime to make up and make good on the time you missed today and then we move on forget about this mess. Is that clear?"

Tony gaped.

"Seriously?"

The disbelief of his own good luck was incredibly endearing in that moment and Gibbs smiled slightly. It was impossible to resist Tony at times. It was all part of his infuriating charm.

"Seriously."

The bright grin was reward enough and even though he rolled his eyes at it, Gibbs was secretly relieved as all hell to see it. Despite himself, he reached out and uncharacteristically pulled the kid into a quick one armed hug. Releasing him, he schooled his face into a stern mask once more. "Next time, you come to me. You come to me and avoid all this mess. Alright?"

Tony seemed almost sleepy with relief and peacefulness as he nodded.

"Alright."

Nodding simply, Gibbs' message of goodnight was clear. As Tony threw himself back on the sofa, marvelling on how the day had panned out, the elder man made it to and paused at the door. Pulling it open with that squeak that always drove him mad, he loitered in the hallway for a moment. Maybe he was getting old, and stupid. Maybe he was tired, and vulnerable. Or maybe he just wasn't as emotionally stoic as he liked to think he was. Whatever it was, it made him need to reiterate a point he shouldn't be so secretive about. He cleared his throat and spoke to the hallway at large.

"Remember what I said. About you and Stan. It's not a choice, it's never been a choice. Never will be."

With that, he was gone, shutting the door softly behind him.

Tony slumped back on the sofa cushion with an impossibly wide smile plastered across his face.

 _It's not a choice….it's never been a choice….never will be_

The smile grew even bigger. He was sitting pretty on a reassurance he had so desperately craved. And he was sitting comfortably. When he wasn't expecting to retain the ability to sit comfortably. For a long time.

He shook his head in amazement.

It was a good god damn night.

Little did he know, that across town, his downfall was being meticulously crafted. Phase one being under serious, concentrated consideration.

It wasn't a good god damn night.

It wasn't a good damn night at all.

…

A/N: TBC

…


	10. Chapter 10

Gibbs watched silently and subtly as Tony strolled happily into the bull pen and felt himself holding his breath in apprehension for the first time in many, many years. He had shooed Stan away from his second's desk and planked him at a spare station but he'd not had the chance to forewarn Tony about his presence. It was pretty early even for him and especially for the kid, but strolling in he was. Smiling happily at Gibbs as he spotted him, Tony opened his mouth in greeting, glad he'd gotten in before the rest of the team. It would just give him a chance to slip back into his regular rhythm with the boss-man. His face dropped openly when he clocked Stan swinging side to side at an abandoned station but he recovered quickly. He stopped short and stared for a moment before seeming to win an internal battle with himself. Gibbs watched as he strode right by him and came to a sharp landing in front of Stan who looked up and smiled widely.

"Stan, I'd like to apologise. I acted like a complete idiot. It won't happen again." He held out his hand and rising, the talented actor in Stan came forth to grasp and shake warmly. "Not at all Tony," he deflected with an air of almost brotherly affection, "We all act a little odd now and again. Especially if you're staring at the orange on _these_ walls for ten or more hours a day. It's entirely forgotten about. I'd be delighted to start all over again, maybe even have a beer tonight or something?" Tony stared into the warm, open face and felt another stab of idiocy course through him. the guy, in the bright light of day, seemed like a solid dude. Someone he could even be friends with if he didn't act like a serial killer in the making. Swallowing, he felt a natural smile cross his face in thanks and releasing Stan's hand with a polite nod, turned and walked towards his own desk. As he threw himself down the proud look that has crossed Gibbs' face and the quiet "nicely done, DiNozzo," as he'd passed truly registered and he smiled broadly.

Today was going to be a good day. He could feel it.

Smiling meaningfully at Gibbs as he inclined his head in approval, Stan went back to swinging side to side. He couldn't quite believe how dense DiNozzo was, but he was extremely grateful for the fact. He would be even easier to manipulate now. It would be a cakewalk. He'd managed to sweet talk his way into the office this morning which was the biggest obstacle to today's task. Infiltration. Gibbs had been reluctant at first and he'd correctly guessed it was due to him being careful not to ruffle his oaf's feathers. But a little hint here and a little nudge there about the urge to drink being the strongest when he was alone had seen him settling into Gibbs' passenger side with a stern warning to adhere to anything he or Tony decreed. It had been to swallow the pill of superiority that DiNozzo possessed, but he'd nodded his head like a choir boy and promised to be ever so docile.

And he would be, because it was a necessary evil.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Gibbs nodded to McGee and Ziva as they entered and set about the day's delegations. He worded himself carefully in issuing orders so he didn't give the appearance of the team being behind due to Tony's absconding, but they were and the senior field agent knew it. Stan managed to catch one his guilty looks as he shuffled in his chair and he gobbled it up like a hog at a trough. By the time he was through with him, that ignoramus was going to look a hell of a lot worse for wear. Jealously burned in Stan as he watched Gibbs and Tony bounce ideas off each other. There was a natural chemistry there, something he knew deep down he and the man had never had. He had worked like a horse to get Gibbs to a place where he could remember his name. But it was clear that this…this _Tony_ never had such a problem. They gelled. It was so obvious it made his inside glaze over with tiny crystals of venomous envy.

He smiled grimly in satisfaction. He would soon put all manner of spokes in their wheelhouse. For Gibbs' sake, of course. He deserved so much better and he, _he_ was the better. "Alright. Move it." The dismissal order was clear but Stan had been so lost in his trance he didn't know where he fit into the day's plans. "Burley," Gibbs snapped, "You with the program or not? You're with McGee and DiNozzo. You wanted to get more experience of field work, here's a tip. Move your damned ass when I tell you to!"

Stan sprang into action.

He was by Tim and Tony's side in record time, looking suitably abashed. As the trio walked from the office building, he gave a long suffering sigh. "I forgot how much of a hard ass Gibbs is to work for. I guess you two are going to have bring me back into touch gently." He laughed as Tony rolled his eyes good naturedly, making a concerted effort to make up for his momentous lack in judgement. "There is no _gentle_ on this team Stan. You'd better open up your memory book and revise quick, otherwise he's gonna eat you alive. Isn't that right, Probie?" Tim snorted as he nodded vigorously. "Yeah, study up Stan; he's still as impatient as ever. You don't want to go into a job interview showing signs of concussion cos' he's slapped you into the next time zone."

Burley groaned.

"Headslaps? He's still going with them?"

Tony and Tim exchanged meaningful looks before bursting into laughter.

"You'll see," they chorused in tandem. By the time the three reached the MCRT van, there was an ease and comfort between them. With Stan's history as Gibbs' second and Tony and Tim's present as his right and left hands, a certain comrardary was born. The more and more time spent with him, the more and more Tony felt any residual reservations slip away. He knew now he'd just been silly, jealous and petty. It was good of Stan not to make a big thing of it and he was more than willing to play ball when it was being so graciously kicked his way. It wasn't long before the three were on seen and Tony was divvying up tasks. It took everything Stan had to take orders from a galloping buffoon like Anthony DiNozzo, but he did so with a kick in his step. It was all part of the bigger picture. It was only on Gibbs' authority that he was allowed in the field at all and he knew it was a tenuous hold. Any fracas and he would be sidelined. His plan orbited around being at the hub, not the bleachers. He had to play it cool. He planned to wait for the perfect blip and seize it. He didn't know what it was, but he knew it would come.

An opportunity would present itself, he just knew it would.

After fifteen minutes of talking aimlessly to disinterested bystanders about the comings and goings of the office building he was stationed outside, he grew weary. He didn't really see how canvassing the place their vic had worked for a few measly months was going to help, but he wisely kept that to himself. Jotting down notes of no use from his tenth bystander, he decided that was more than enough and decided to source a new task. He recalled dumb and dumber saying they were going to scout out the dead guy's old office on the fifth floor and set course in that direction. Breezing through the corridors and up the elevators his heart was light and his mind whirring. Tedious as it was, this stupid field assignment brought back the memories he had clung to so desperately. He and Gibbs, years ago, before anyone even knew or cared that Anthony DiNozzo existed.

He heard heated voices.

That answered the question of which office the two stooges were in and he followed the angry vocals down the hall and to the right. Inching into the open office, he moved to stand beside Tony who barely looked at him as he argued with an officious looking pen pusher, who looked equally aggrieved. "Listen," the senior field agent ground out, "What you are holding could be invaluable evidence in our investigation. You said yourself you don't need it, or even know what it is. But I know that our victim had a collection of engraved USB's just like that one. It could contain vital information. It is clearly not your property, and since our victim is a dead Sailor….we have jurisdiction over his effects. So, if you could effectively hand over his effects, we would be just _thrilled._ Right, Probie? Stan?" Two heads nodded in tandem, Tim, intent on progressing the investigation, Stan…seeing an opening.

"It is simply not possible," the angry man clipped out. "I may not know nor want what is on this USB, but it could possibly contain confidential and sensitive company information. I cannot simply hand it over. Get a warrant and you can have all the engraved USB's you want. Until then, we have business to conduct and I would appreciate it if you were to take your leave. I will not be giving you this USB and if you attempt to interfere with it unlawfully, I will ensure our legal department drags your agency through the thickest of mud. As well as _you_ personally, Agent DiNozzo. Now, get out." With that, he promptly snapped the USB down on the polished desk and sat with a huff, quickly engrossed in whatever spreadsheet was flickering in front of him.

Tony glared with uncharacteristic heat before shaking his head and storming from the room.

Tim quickly followed suit.

Stan dawdled for the briefest of moments, so brief Tony and Tim didn't even notice it when he reappeared at their side, nodding vigorously at their heated diatribe. The cold metal of the carefully removed USB lay comfortably in his pocket as a small, discreet smile played about his lips. It was amazing what a small distraction and skilful slight of hand could produce. Tony was still ranting as he screeched the MCRT van from the lot and set course for the Navy Yard. When they piled out some thirty minutes later he was lost in a Sean Connery impression, requested by Stan. Tim, having heard it many times before left them at it with a roll of his eyes. As he gesticulated wildly, Tony didn't feel the skilful transition of the USB from Stan's pocket to his own. He had absolutely no idea. And that was exactly as Stan had intended.

The scene as they walked into the bull pen had Tony's impression catching in his throat. Stan carefully shot his brows up in surprise, putting a subtle distance between himself and the confused looking senior field agent. McGee appeared to be on the receiving end of a roasting as Ziva looked on uncomfortably. Gibbs stood behind his desk, laying into his junior agent who stared at him in wide eyed innocence. "Boss…I _swear…_ I didn't. Why would I? We can get a warrant. I would never…c'mon…I would never steal evidence. It would be inadmissible, what would be the point? I haven't got it!"

Gibbs stared for a moment and then nodded, apparently satisfied.

Spying Tony and Stan, his eyes narrowed. "You two, over here," he barked, pointing at the vacant spots behind McGee in the hot spot. Exchanging incredulous looks, Tony and Stan did as they were bid and stared Gibbs with the same innocence that McGee wore. Deciding he really ought to get to the bottom of the ruckus, Tony cleared his throat. "Boss? What's going on?" Gibbs snorted, his face contorting with ire. The connections of the legal department at that damned software company were apparently high and far reaching. Jenny was doing her nut and he'd forgotten just how high pitched her voice could be when she screeched uncontrollably. "That suit from the company you've just come from called. He alleges that you, Tony, were verbally abusive towards him and downright intimidating. And also…he alleges that one of you stole some damned…computer chip thing….the damned doo-dah you were arguing about. He told you all to get a warrant and now the thing is missing."

He glared at the three who stared back in increasing shock.

He shook his head. He just wasn't in the damned mood.

"Alright. I got an easy fix for this. I just want to satisfy the Director, I know none of you are stupid enough to actually steal evidence." He flashed an apologetic look at McGee who inclined his head in recognition. "But our Director is not a happy woman. There's cameras all over this bull pen so just empty your pockets, the three of you so she can see you ain't got no…thingy on you. Won't calm her completely but it'll go some way." He tapped the surface of his desk and indicated to the camera above his head. "Everything in your pockets on my desk. The three of you."

With much indignant huffing, Stan, Tony and Tim slowly complied. Moving forwards in tandem, the three reached into their pockets and dumped the contents without compunction on Gibbs' desk. Groaning at the sheer amount of sweet wrappers that managed to appear, the team-lead leant over the three separate bundles and studied them quickly. Tim…cell, wallet and some weird figurine thing. Due to the blushing across the kid's face, Gibbs decided not to question him on it. Stan…cell, wallet and his AA chip. Nodding, Gibbs moved onto Tony's pile and shot his second in command a baleful look. The debris was horrendous and the toothy grin did nothing to assuage his contempt. Sighing, he poked through the bundle of wrappers, girls' phone numbers in order to get to real contents. He nodded as he checked them off. Cell, wallet, loose change….

Engraved USB drive.

The air suddenly vanished from the room as Gibbs slowly took in the chip that had been explained to him in great detail. There was no mistaking it as the missing property. He stared at it for what felt like an eternity, hardly able to believe it. When he looked up, everyone in the room had turned ashen. But none moreso than Tony. He looked as if he'd just donated his entire blood volume and was very much regretting it. His voice was broken and high pitched when he spoke, his head shaking side to side and his hands coming up defensively.

"Boss…no, no….this isn't…. I didn't…..please; you've got to believe me-"

Gibbs' look quailed him into silence as the room temperature dropped into the minus figures. The team-lead raised a hand that was shaking with shock, disappointment and raw anger. When he spoke, his voice radiated with disgust, every syllable oozing with it. Tony felt the contents of his stomach tumble around his gut as he stared in frozen horror at the fire in the man's eyes, the eyes that were boring directly into his very soul.

"You. Conference room. Now."

…

TBC

A/N: Wrote this whilst stuck in a horrendous traffic jam. No time to check for typos, will do so later and correct if necessary! Hope you enjoyed! _Inks

…


	11. Chapter 11

The minute the Conference Room door closed, Tony found his battle against hyperventilation one hell of a lot harder. He barely saw Gibbs as he walked quickly to land in front of him; the only thought thundering around his brain was the biggest blot on he and Gibbs' relationship record, the same blot having occurred in the very room they stood in. The fateful time that he had forgiven but could not forget, the singular time when Gibbs had let him down in the worst possible way. The time he had been punished for something he had not done. Something he had been framed for. He had pleaded with the older man then, begged him to believe the truth he was speaking. But he had not and it had caused a icy chasm to erupt between them. It had taken a hell of a long time to melt that glacier. He'd had the same look in his eyes then as he had when that USB had fallen from his pocket. Ice cold anger and iron clad conviction.

It was going to happen again.

That realisation hit him like a freight train in that moment and he simply could not stand where he was, waiting for the executioners axe to follow. It was too much to stay stationary, to see the same look of disappointment whilst his truth be dismissed as fiction. He felt his breath stagnate in his chest. He couldn't bear to look at Gibbs, having seen everything he needed to see in his eyes a mere five minutes ago. He was speaking, but he didn't know what he was saying. Couldn't decipher the words, didn't want to decipher the words. He needed to get it done with. The pain, the physical pain, he could deal with. That was transient. That was temporary. But the raw mental anguish he knew was building where he stood would only grow more and more unwieldy the longer he put it off. Better to get it over and done with and then flee to the safety of his apartment. That's what he'd done last time, and that's what he'd have to do again.

Gibbs' voice continued to play in the background but he ignored it as he turned on his heel and draped himself over the Conference Room table. He could see his pale face in the highly polished grain. He didn't recognise himself. Didn't want to recognise himself, didn't want to be in the present. He needed to get it over and done with. Needed for it to be done so he could get as far away from Gibbs as possible, as fast as possible. His mind was going dark at the corners like a deep vignette, and he wished the spread of apathy would spread as wide as possible, as fast as possible.

The hand on the small of his back felt like the most venomous of déjà vu and he yearned to shake it off, like a dangerous illness. But he would not; he would just ride the wave of betrayal out until he was beached. The hand was as warm as usual but it was not as restrained, it was urgent and accompanied by a raised voice. Tony blinked away the confusion and waited with patient impatience for the ordeal to be completed. He just needed to survive the first lick without a word and he would be able to make it through.

But the first lick never came.

He was suddenly seized by his shoulders and lifted bodily, yet gently, from the table and to his feet. The sudden change in altitude made his head woozy and he blinked unintelligently for a moment, Gibbs' pale face coming into focus in a slow and burry fashion. There was suddenly a heavy hand on each of his shoulders and he found himself being gently shaken. He blinked some more and shook his head, trying to snap back into the moment. He stared for a moment before being unable to control his mouth, though his voice was a hell of a lot thinner than usual.

"I didn't take it. Boss, I swear. I didn't take it."

Gibbs stopped the gentle shaking but didn't remove his hands from Tony's shoulders. "Jeez, Tony. I _know_ you didn't take it. That's what I've been trying to tell you since you stepped foot in here." He squeezed the shoulder blades beneath his hands before dropping them away. He took a deep breath as the raw guilt he still carried for his monumental screw up bubbled to the surface once more. The kid had practically had a panic attack and had offered himself as a lamb for slaughter because he thought that screw up was about to be repeated.

The mere thought of what had been going through Tony's head made Gibbs want to hurl.

"Tony, listen to me. I believe you. You hear me? I believe you. I know you'd never steal evidence. I'd never think you would. There is a _personal_ and _professional_ you and yeah, sometimes the things _personal you_ do make me want to throttle you but I _never_ have concerns about professional you." He scrubbed a hand over his face as Tony's complexion began to pink back up from the ashen pale it had adopted. Gibbs' voice was laden with meaning as he forced himself to utter painful words. "I know I screwed up as badly as I could when I tanned you for something you didn't do. I will never forgive myself for that but I meant what I said back then. That was a mistake I will _never_ repeat. I will never not believe you again. You looked me in the eyes and told me you didn't take it so as far as I'm concerned that about as true as true can be."

He locked eyes with his moderately gaping second in command.

"Breathe Tony, c'mon….just breathe. I am not going to hurt you, ok? I'm not gonna hurt you."

There was a profound, almost weeping silence. Tony stared at Gibbs and Gibbs at Tony. The younger man's mind was whirring. The tightness in his chest was dissipating and he was beginning to feel like himself, the blood returning to his extremities. Gibbs believed him; he knew he didn't take it. He wasn't about to suffer another unjust punishment. The same mistake that had nearly torn them apart wasn't about to be replayed in a gut wrenching blow by blow manner. Biting his lip, he glanced down at the floor and found himself nodding, something he wasn't physically capable of doing a mere two minutes ago.

"Thanks Boss."

Gibbs shook his head, the guilt burning in his gut. Old guilt was the most profound guilt. "Don't you dare thank me." He shook his head in frustration, Tony's meltdown seeping into his brain. He had been telling him over and over again that he believed him and the kid acted like he hadn't heard a word, merely preparing himself for an unwarranted hiding. He would never forget that image and he knew he deserved to never forget it. "I will never make that mistake again Tony," he reiterated quietly, desperately needing the kid to believe it. "I will never, ever lay a hand on you again unless I have my facts as straight as an arrow. I mean it."

Tony visibly deflated as he nodded once more.

"I know, Boss."

Pressing silence resumed once more as the emotionally charged atmosphere suddenly became uncomfortable for the two alpha-like men. Both their minds turned to their coping mechanisms and a burning question emerged from the ashes of their emotional wildfire. The two locked eyes and the question each was pondering was evident in the other's eyes. Tony, for his part, suddenly felt the delayed reaction of indignant anger and betrayal. Gibbs, for his part, suddenly felt the all too familiar rage that ignited when someone messed with one of his people. The question was….who in the hell would want to do this to his second in command? It made no sense. Unless there was some long con scenario playing out at the company the damned USB thingy had come from. Perhaps it was a slight of hand, designed to distract. He opened his mouth to run this theory passed his deeply in thought protégé, only to be beaten to the punch.

"It was Stan."

Gibbs stared, before giving way to an uncontrollable sigh that oozed with disappointment.

"Damnit Tony, I thought we were passed this.."

….

A/N: I was gonna have an unjust punishment scenario but I didn't have the heart! Went this way instead! Hope you enjoyed. _Inks

…


	12. Chapter 12

"Boss, come on. You think _Tim_ put in my pocket? There were only three of us in that room. It didn't jump into my pocket; the guy at the company wasn't within three feet of me. It had to be him. I know I apologised for how I acted with Stan, but maybe I was right. _Maybe I was right._ I didn't take it, so the only logical explanation is that he slipped it into my pocket when I wasn't looking. You must see that much surely?" Gibbs stared incredulously, the strains of tiredness beginning to pinch at his eyes. "Why would he do that?" he asked exasperatedly, "What the hell would he possibly gain from putting that thing in your pocket?" Tony threw his hands up into the air in equal exasperation. "I don't know Boss; he knew it would get me into trouble with you. Maybe that's what he wants."

Gibbs snorted.

"And why would he go through all of this just to get you into trouble with me?" Feeling beads of perspiration pop at his temples, Tony gritted his teeth. "I don't know. I don't know what's going on his head now do I? All I know is this. He is the only logical explanation as to how that USB ended up in my pocket. Are you even going to ask him about it? From the way you reacted in the bull pen he's more than likely under the impression that you're up here about to hand me a suspension or worse. Why don't you let him think you have and see how he reacts? That's one way to see what's going on. Plant a line and reel it in." Gibbs' eyes narrowed and he shook his head. "I am not going to treat Stan like a criminal," he rejected flatly, "It wouldn't be right." Tony bristled. "It's not right to treat him like a criminal but it's ok to treat me like a lunatic when I'm telling you the painfully obvious?"

Gibbs glared.

"You're going to have a pain in a minute if you don't watch your tone." Choosing to ignore this, Tony still took a second to collect himself. Glancing down at the floor, he breathed deeply. "Well, what do you want to do then? I didn't take it and you know it, but it's in my pocket. The case is already out the window; we'll never get a conviction now. How are we going to salvage this? And how are we going to move forwards with any investigation when how this happened hasn't been figured out?" A migraine was spreading across the base of Gibbs' skull as he held up a defensive hand. "Jesus Christ Tony, enough with the twenty questions. I don't know, alright? I don't know." He scrubbed a hand across his eyes and let out a billowing sigh with a muttered "what a damned mess" under his breath. The two men stared each other for the longest moment, before Gibbs' chest visually deflated.

"Tell me more about your line and reel plan."

Tony stared, but recovered quickly. "We go down there and you yell at me to clear out my desk. I'm suspended for two weeks, no pay, the full works. Watch how Stan reacts, discreetly. I'll leave and you tell him to work from my station. See how he plays it out. Boss…I know I acted like an idiot with the investigation and everything, but it was my gut telling me to do it. I convinced myself I was wrong, I really did but I…I think he's here for my job and the most dependable way to get it is to discredit me and worm his way into your good graces. Boss, that's the only explanation for today. I know you have history with him but I think he's using that to his advantage. Please, just run with my idea. If I'm wrong then I bear all the responsibility and I will eat my words. But I don't think I am, I really don't think I am."

Hanging his head, Gibbs let out a slow, laboured breath.

"I trained Stan. Same way I trained you. I can't believe he'd do something like this, or be this calculated. If he wanted a job he would ask for one. I could make room here, not as my second in command, but I could wrangle room for one more junior agent. He knows that. He never asked me for a gig here, or insinuated he wanted one." He shook his head. "No, I can't believe I even entertained the notion of this idea for a single second. What the hell is the matter with me…" He shook his head again, even more vigorously. "There must be a reasonable explanation as to how that USB landed in your pocket and I'm sure we'll find it. But it wasn't Stan and if you accuse him of anything of the sort Tony, you _will_ be in trouble with me. You know his situation, you set him off and into a binge and I'm gonna be pissed."

He stared sternly.

"Is that clear?"

Anger bubbled within the younger man. "Seriously? He's the only one who could have done it, it being an attempt to _frame me_ but _I'm_ the one who'll be in trouble? How is that fair?" Closing his eyes slowly, Gibbs forced himself to remain calm. "There's nothing I can do if you feel it's unfair but it's the way it is and you can't say that you weren't warned if you do what I'm warning you not to do. Now, as for now, you are getting back to work and I will be telling the team that there was a misunderstanding and that we will be investigating how that evidence came to be in your possession but that no one is suspected on this team. In short, I will be telling the team the truth." He nodded his head towards the door. "Now, get back to work. This conversation is over." Tony's eyes were flashing as he stood stock still, the unfairness burning like an inferno.

"You're choosing him over me. Even though you said there wasn't a choice, you're choosing him."

Gibbs took a step closer, and attempted to lay a hand on Tony's shoulder but the younger man jerked away. Ignoring the sting with difficulty, the elder man let his hand drop as his stomach performed a similar decline. "Tony," Gibbs said quietly, "I am not choosing anyone over you. I am just telling you, that you have this one wrong. Wronger than wrong. But we all get it wrong now and then, alright? If I thought for one minute that what you were saying was true, I would be the first one to knock Stan on his ass. But it isn't true, I know with certainty that it isn't and my gut has been around a lot longer than yours. Now, you have one of two choices. You can go back to your desk and get back to work or you go home and clear your head. Be careful which one you choose because if you go back to your desk and kick off after I've given you the opportunity to clear your head, I am not going to be impressed. Understand?" Shaking his head in incredulity, Tony looked down in disappointment.

"I think I understand perfectly. I'll go back to my desk and sit like an angel. No worries."

His voice was loaded and carried connotations far beyond what the short sentence stated and Gibbs knew it. Sighing, he threw his hand to the door once more. "Go on then, get back to work if that's what your choice is. But heed my warning, I'm telling you here and now that I won't give another one." He chewed his lip for a second. "You and Stan could be friends, you know? The two of you have a tonne load in common. Why not try that angle for a bit? It'll make you less angry if nothing else." Tony didn't even deign to answer as he gave Gibbs a look so cold that it froze the blood in that man's veins.

The Conference Room door clicked softly shut and the team-lead was alone, disturbed by how badly wrong the conversation had ended. He stayed there for a while, to collect himself and so he did not see and he did not hear. He didn't see the bull pen was empty when Tony returned, save for Stan. He didn't see his former second in command grin like a Cheshire cat and sidle up to his current second in command, didn't see him lean over Tony's desk and into his personal space with a cold, detached gleam in his eye. The two locked gazes, hostility blooming like a summer garden between them. Alone in the Conference Room, pacing worriedly, Gibbs did not hear what transpired next. "I see you wriggled your way out of that one. But don't worry, there's a hell of a lot more where that came from. Cards on the table time, seeing as good ole Gibbs will never believe you anyway. So, yeah…you were right kiddo, I'm not all that I appear to be. But then again, who is?"

He winked then and stood, looking down at Tony with a chilling, purposeful and calculating grin.

"Enjoy your time sitting at that desk, Agent DiNozzo. It'll be mine soon enough. You have my word."

…

A/N: TBC

…


	13. Chapter 13

Tony felt his jaws fall slack and peel apart in shock. He quickly cast a look around the bullpen to see if anyone else had heard the silky threat that had been issued and his heart immediately sank. Tim was on the phone, warring with the company that they had just come from. Ziva was beating her non-responsive computer in somewhat of a manic frenzy and Gibbs was still nowhere to be seen. Stan, for his part, was swinging back and forth in his chair as if nothing whatsoever had happened. Swallowing, Tony did his level best to keep it together. If he went over there now and smashed Burley's teeth in, Gibbs would think he was being a jealous toddler and skin him alive for sure, chalking up another victory in Stan's book of horror. No, he had to be cleverer than that. He might not be an MIT grad like Tim, but he was still a million miles away from stupid. Closing his eyes and thinking rapidly, he was pleased to find a sense of purpose blossoming in the pit of his gut.

All he had to do was treat Stan like a perp, and all perps' screwed up eventually. The trick was not to get sucked into their net and subsequently strangled in their web. He leant back in his chair and smiled at Stan, smiled widely. Dropping his head back down to the stack of files on his desk, but not before he'd clocked the look of shock that had sprung to Burley's face, he smiled a private smile of his own. It wouldn't be easy, but he had to treat Gibbs in much the same way he was planning on treating Stan. The boss was blinkered when it came to Burley and in his defence, Tony could see why. He'd worked with him and trained him, it was natural and in keeping with the old man's character, that he was going to think the best of him and protect him.

Just then, Gibbs himself swept back into the bullpen.

"Boss," Tony said quietly, giving no indication of their recent disagreement. "I think I have a lead on the other suspect we were running down. Seems like someone's been using his credit card pretty religiously over the last three days, but CCTV footage doesn't match up. I think it'd be a good idea to run down to the bank, seeing as the card user took out a substantial wad of cash there just yesterday, and see if the teller's remember anything. That ok?" Stopping short in front of Tony's desk, unaware of Stan's eyes boring into his back, Gibbs was speechless for a moment. To be frank, he had expected Tony to give him the silent treatment he always reverted to when he felt he'd been slighted, on the rare occasions when they could only agree to disagree. Blinking, but recovering, he nodded approvingly. He was more than impressed with the professional and civil way the kid was conducting himself.

"Sure. That's a good call, Tony. Take McGee and get going then."

Standing, the younger agent chewed his lip for a moment. "Actually, Boss, if it's all the same I think this would be a good gig to take Stan along to. You know how prickly banks can be; it'll be good for him to get back into the swing of dealing with uncooperative witnesses." He cast a pleasant glance over Gibbs' shoulder and the silently staring Stan and quirked a brow. "Right, Burley?" Gibbs twisted just in time to see Stan smile a good natured smile that somehow managed to meet his cold eyes. "Sure thing DiNozzo, that's a good shout. I could do with stretching my legs again anyhow." Seeing Tim look at him in moderate hurt, Tony tilted his head slightly, in a way his own protégé of sorts could understand. Not knowing what was up, but knowing something was up, Tim nodded imperceptibly. Feeling more than wrong footed but knowing that to question anything would result in the situation smouldering again, Gibbs cleared his throat and nodded his permission.

"Alright then. Move it, no more than an hour."

Swinging out from behind his desk and falling into step with a now suspiciously glaring Stan, Tony whistled all the way to the elevator with a spring in his step. In truth, he felt icy cubes of anxiety slide further and further into his gut, but he couldn't let it show. Stan's plan, whatever the hell it was, was undoubtedly predicated on him losing control. He wouldn't do it. He would merely go about his merry way as if he had not a care in the world. When the elevator doors swallowed them, with Gibbs left staring at the metal cage in utter confusion and mounting trepidation, the two were finally all alone.

"What are you playing at, DiNozzo? What's your angle?"

Remaining utterly and annoyingly saccharine, Tony stared straight ahead. "What angle? You're pretty much on this case with us, makes sense that you get as much exposure as possible. Thought you'd appreciate it." Stan's eyes bored into the side of his skull, but Tony resolutely continued to stare right in front of him. "Come off it you little weirdo," Stan spat, his pleasant persona slipping fast. "You know I'm here for your job, so why the best buddies act in front of the Boss?" Taking an almost primal satisfaction in how quickly Stan's mask was slipping, Tony screwed up his face into puzzlement. "My job?" He shook his head." Dude, I thought you were messing around up in the bullpen, just letting off some steam." He laughed. "You want my job? You can have it, my neurologist will thank you. He say's my skull is caving in from all the slaps Gibbs cracks across my noggin. If you want it, you got it."

Stan gaped.

"Really?"

Tony spluttered with pleasant laughter. "Naw, not really Stan. Unless Gibbs kicks me off his team, I'm pretty much here to stay. If it's any consolation, he threatens me with a pink slip on a weekly basis, so you shouldn't have to wait too long." He winked then, as the doors opened and led the way into the car lot. As Stan slipped into the passenger seat of his car with a rather dazed expression, Tony was seized with the savage desire to slam his fist into his dopey jaw. But he resisted, with great reluctance, he resisted. He kept up a friendly banter all the way to the bank which seemed to confuse Stan more and more as they sped along the sun soaked streets. Apparently satisfied by the time they got there that Tony was some kind of a half wit who simply couldn't understand a threat when he received one, he slowly began to return the banter with a hint of his prior mask. By the time the two returned to the car after tag teaming the haggard teller, Stan was breathing a hell of a lot easier. He'd already come to the conclusion that Tony was a moron, but as his good fortune would have it, he was even more moronic than a mere moron.

He was a complete and utter simpleton of epic proportions.

Taking his job would be easier than candy from a baby. As they strolled back into the bull pen, he felt Gibbs' eyes on them and made a point of slugging Tony playfully on the shoulder as they landed in front of his desk to give their reports. For his part, Tony rolled his eyes good humouredly and launched with a jaunty voice into the recollection of events at the bank. Leaning back in his chair and staring up and his former and current second-in-command's, Gibbs' head began to hurt. He was bizarrely reminded of his two most complicated ex-wives. Shaking his head to swiftly remove that image, he listened half heartedly to the report and nodded his acceptance. "Alright, get back to work on the original leads then." Peace and silence reigned supreme for the rest of the day as both DiNozzo and Burley sloped back to their desks and cracked on with the case. Gibbs watched them subtly throughout the rest of the day. They'd had cause to interact with each other three times and three times they had conducted themselves in a professional but distinctly friendly manner.

Gibbs reached for painkillers before the clock struck six.

As they team broke up for the day, Stan was seized by a sudden, sly inspiration. As McGee and Ziva said their goodbyes, he cleared his throat. "Hey, Boss, seeing as I picked up more food than I should have, maybe Tony could come over for dinner tonight? I could sure do with picking his brains on what makes a good SFA these days, the game seems to have changed." He gave a small, self deprecating chuckle. "I'm definitely rusty anyway." He looked to Tony who was frozen in the middle of stuffing his laptop into his bag and raised a brow. "Tony? What do you say? You're up for it, right?" Glancing over at Gibbs who appeared shocked for a moment before his face gave away to a genuinely happy smile; he swallowed and nodded his head, plastering a smile on his own face.

"Sounds great."

Gibbs' smile spread wider. Maybe he was just being a suspicious old fool. Maybe the two men were really going to get along just fine. Breathing a sigh of relief, he nodded his own approval and suggested he drive them back to his place. Tony could catch a ride in the morning and pick up his car. Within a matter of an hour or so, all three men were chatting around the table amiably. Usually, Tony and Gibbs would crack open a beer over steak, but this time they drank water. It was unsaid, but Tony knew the reason why. So Stan wouldn't be tempted. His forehead wrinkled as he laughed at some stupid joke or other Burley was telling. Did he even believe that he was a recovering alcoholic? He eyed him carefully. Probably not. But it was a good sob story to work with. Unproven because investigating, to Gibbs, would be a breach of trust. Something Stan would know and would use to high heaven. As the plates cleared, Gibbs suddenly let out a mammoth sigh as he read the message that chirped from his cell. "Crap. Boys', I gotta run out for about thirty minutes. Duck's tried to put together a bookcase."

He wiped his face and shook his head and the two matching glances of inquiry.

"Great doctor, bad carpenter," Gibbs explained, "I'll be back in a few. Throw on a film or something." He stood and thought better of something. "Tony, when I say throw on a film, I mean something you'll _both_ like. You know your tastes can be a little…unique." Grinning in admission, Tony nodded. "Sure thing, Boss. Will do." Stan, as if not to miss out on the approving little smile Tony received, cleared his throat. "I'm sure I'll like whatever Tony's got up his sleeve, Boss. We seem to have a lot in common anyhow." Setting down his water glass, the younger of the two nodded his head with the acting skills that should have landed him _in_ the one of the movies they were discussing. "We sure do," he agreed easily, before chuckling. "Even though I _am_ the slightly more handsome." Rolling his eyes as the two laughed easily, Gibbs felt the last of his unease melt away.

Tony and Stan, they were great. Getting on like a house on fire. Misconceptions forgotten.

As he closed the front door and set off to aid Ducky, he heard the wafts of laughter from the warm kitchen and was still smiling as he slid the car out of the driveway. Back at the house, Tony stood to clear away the table and Stan sprang to his feet to aid him. The two chattered as they cleaned, each keeping a private but sharp eye on the other's responses. Tony didn't know how Stan was feeling, but he for one, was bloody exhausted. The pretence was a draining experience when being next to the intruder who literally made his skin crawl. But he took a deep breath and soldiered on. He had no choice, not really. When the last dish had been dried and put away, he made a beeline for the sofa, the weariness beginning to get the better of him. As Stan dried his hands and sloped into the living room, he suddenly spied the delicate little crystal clock sitting atop the mantelpiece. Crossing the room and picking it up, he read the fine inscription quickly.

"Abby got him this? It's not very…Gibbs-ish."

Looking up from the remote, Tony blanched when he saw what Stan was holding. "No, but he loves that thing, because _Abby_ got it for him. Stan, seriously, put it down. That breaks and the boss will have a complete and utter meltdown." Rolling his eyes and tossing the clock in his hands to feel its weight, Stan looked at it in boredom. Shrugging at Tony's repeated urges to put it back; he reached up to do just that but misjudged the uneven wooden beam and dropped the transparent clock. As the crystal splintered on impact, two sets of eyes were riveted upon it in horror. The broken face stared back up at them, fine shards of crystal scattered around it like blood splatter. Tony's face dropped two colour tones. "You _idiot,"_ he hissed, "look at what you've done! Gibbs is gonna go mental. He's going to absolutely do his nut. I _told_ you to put it back, I didn't say _throw_ it back." He rubbed a hand over his tired eyes and breathed deeply. "Jesus, we need to clean it up. Before he get's back and sees it all over the floor."

Stan was muted, staring in horror between the smattering mess and his own hand.

"I'll say you did it," he eventually muttered as Tony dragged himself off the sofa and made to bend down to the mess. Straightening up at Stan's oddly strangled whisper, he felt himself pale even further. "What? You can't do that. _You_ are the one who broke it. You have to tell him it was you. He'll be pissed for a few minutes and then he'll get over it, you'll probably have to apologise to Abby too, but that's it." Stan shook his head wildly, "No, no. I'll say you were fooling around; acting the big honcho and it fell over when you ran past it. I tried to stop you, told you to quit acting like a fool but you wouldn't listen. Yeah…yeah, that'll work." Tony's stomach dropped down into the iciest of ice pits as he stared at the completely serious, yet completely demonic look on Stan's face. "You son of a bitch," he snarled, his ability to pretend all but gone in that moment. "What the hell do you have against me? Why me?" Stan smiled then, a bizarrely genuine smile and spoke softly.

"You're living my life, Tony, and I want it back. I'm going to get it back, one way or the other."

The two stared at each other then and a hazy red mist of anger descended over Tony's eyes. He looked into Stan's eyes and saw nothing there but a steely determination to do as he had so sincerely promised. He looked down at the clock in smithereens and back up at Stan who was now smiling creepily at him, like he was proud of his handiwork, his impromptu set up. Tony swallowed deep. "You are never getting your job back. You need to accept that. Gibbs will never choose you over me. He said as much. Sorry, but that's the truth. He told me that if there was a choice between you and I, it was always going to be me. So, no, you're not getting your "life" back, that life is gone. It's over. Get over it and move on."

The sound of wheels crunching on gravel suddenly alerted them then, Gibbs was back.

Stan moved with the stealth of a ninja on crack. Turning to the mantelpiece, he took one deep breath before stooping down and bashing his head off of it with a disgusting crunch. Barely grunting in pain as blood spurted like a geyser from his nose, he darted forwards and grabbed a gaping Tony's hand. Too shocked to resist as Stan smeared his hands in blood, the younger of the two felt like he was watching some sort of sick horror film in some really bad drive-thru. The hairs on the back of his neck stood as he was rendered speechless. Stan spread one more layer of piping hot blood on his lifeless hands, before dropping to the ground with a loud, guttural groan.

Cupping his hands over his spurting nose, he yowled in pain. Unlike the small grunt he'd given when he'd slammed his own head off the wooden mantelpiece, he was now positively shrieking in agony. Gibbs, with hearing so acute it was like a different sense, heard the screeches before he hit the door and broke into a run. Throwing open the door, he all but dropped to the ground in shock. There, standing over his former second in command, was his current second in command. Tony was uninjured, towering over Stan who was pooling in his own blood, screaming in pain. His eyes darted to the crushed clock on the floor, the blood dripping from the wooden fire surround and the utterly unhurt nature of one of the men. Gibbs felt his heart constrict in his chest as Tony slowly looked from his blood soaked hands to him, with a perfectly unmarked face.

"Boss…" he said weakly, "No…no, _no…._ it wasn't me…."

Stan gasped in pain, right on cue, and staggered to his feet, pointing a bloody finger at Tony's chest. "Boss…" he spluttered, "It was him. He…he smashed my head into the fireplace, all because he broke your damned clock and wanted me to take the blame for it." He winced and yelped as the blood kept pouring. "When I refused, he went nuts. Started accusing me of all sorts. Of planting that USB on him for a start. When I told…ahh, when I told him he was imagining things and to calm down he just _lost_ it…I didn't even see it coming. I turned my back on him and he attacked me. Jesus, Boss, your right hand man is a _lunatic._ " Gibbs, for the first time in his life, was utterly incapable of speech. An eternity passed before he crossed the room in an instant, regaining his mobility in a flash.

There was silence for a moment, before the wailing cries of pain that echoed sharply into the night burst from the living room. They pierced the night air, soared through the open front door, and carried right down the street to where old Mrs Clegg was chatting with her neighbour over their rose bushes. Her voice was a cracked whisper of horror as he risked slipping her back disks, twisting in the direction of the anguished yells and pleas for mercy.

"Oh my _God,_ Masie, someone is getting an _awful_ hiding over at Mr Gibbs' house! Oh my God!"

…..

A/N: In relation to the A/N I had on _Regrette et Regression,_ about the idea of me posting some original work on FictionPress, I have the first chapter of my first story posted now! I'm under the same name there, Inks Inc, and the story is called _"The Term"_ It's just an introductory sort of chapter but I'd really appreciate it if y'all could pop over for a lookey and read/follow me there!

Inks x

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	14. Chapter 14

Tony's eyes were saucer like. Everything seemed to move in slow motion. He saw Gibbs crane his neck from him, to his unmarked hands and to Stan's pulsating head and felt panic grip him in a gut wrenching knot. He backed away as Gibbs started moving, his face pleading with him to see deeper than what the surface mirrored. Begging him silently to see that he wouldn't do something like he was seeing. But an odd sort of mask was contorting the older man's face. He'd seen Gibbs angry on many, many occasions and he'd seen him vibrate with unbridled rage more times than he cared to remember, but never like this. The blue eyes were stalactites and the lips that housed the rare crooked smile that had the possibility to appear at the most unexpected time, were set in a straight line of pursed rage. Tony's heart sank as fear began to replace his panic. Gibbs was storming towards him, sending anything in his way flying without care or knowledge. Backing up until he could back up no further, Tony braced himself for carnage to descend, closing his eyes with a terminal acceptance as he saw Gibbs' right hand snake out.

Before they flew open as it came to rest gently and warmly on his right shoulder.

"Tony, are you ok?"

The voice seemed incapable of coming from the man. It was a gentle voice, infused with concern. The kind of one more commonly directed at Abby and sometimes the rest of them. Shock joined the emotion party as Tony nodded his head in a daze. "Good," Gibbs said quietly, raking his eyes over his second in command in search of any subtle injury. When he found none, he squeezed the shoulder under his hand gently. Before he turned to face an ashen looking Stan and advanced towards him like a slithering rattlesnake. "Get up, Burley," he said in a voice so cold Tony half expected icicles to drop from his mouth. "Stand up properly and be a man, for once in your damned life." When Stan didn't move, still slumped in his dramatic poise of the wounded man, the first snarl ripped from Gibbs' throat. Reaching down, he grabbed Stan by the scruff of his neck and wrenched him to his feet, ignoring the wounded scream of pain it elicited. Pinning him to the wall with one hand and gesturing for Tony to come closer with the other, Gibbs made nothing of the fact that Stan's blood was dripping sluggishly onto his own hand. Feeling Tony melt nervously to his side, he looked to him as did a shocked Burley.

"You think I believe anything you just said, Stan? You think that _I_ think Tony would do any of that?"

Stan opened his mouth, but Gibbs wasn't done. He continued in a voice so dangerous, it seemed to flow like silk. "Because, here's the problem. If Tony had broken that clock, he would have just told me about it. Because he is no coward and because he knows how much it meant to me. He would have told me about it the second I walked in the door. If he had broken the clock, there is no way on God's green earth that he would ask or attempt to force you or anyone else to take the blame. Because he is no coward and he knows how much it meant to me. So that means that your story doesn't hold up, Stan. That means you're lying. And the only possible reason you'd have to lie is to try and get Tony into trouble. And that brings me back to the USB that somehow made its way into his pocket earlier on today. See, he told me that he thought _you_ planted it on him and I wouldn't listen. Because I'm a stupid old fool for still trying to see the best in you. But there is no best, is there? You came back here with the sole intent and purpose to try and discredit _my_ second in command and worm your way back into the post. Isn't that right?"

Stan gasped in Oscar award winning shock and shook his head, wincing at the pain.

"No?" Gibbs practically purred, tightening the hold on Burley's neckline and pushing him flatter against the wall. "I've got it wrong, do I? Explain then. I'm a fair man. You go on and explain to me how this story holds up, this fantasy you have about broken clocks and my right hand man, because I gotta tell you Burley, I'm struggling here. Because, you see, if this story were the other way around. If Tony were telling me, say, that _you_ broke the clock and tried to pin it on him and when he refused, you threw your thick head against my fireplace to make it seem like he attacked you…well, I could believe that." He scratched his chin thoughtfully as his eyes grew glassier with rage. "In fact, you know what Stan? I think I just _do_ believe that. You're a coward and you always have been. Even as a Probie you could never take responsibility for your actions. Always blaming others, when you weren't tattling on them to me like a fourth grader. Tony, on the other hand, doesn't have that issue. If he screws up, he owns it. Like a damned man. So do you see now how this little scene you've set wasn't researched correctly, Stan? Do you see how I'm having trouble buying it?"

In that moment, it was impossible to tell who was more shocked. Stan or Tony.

Gibbs leaned in closer and whispered a terrifying whisper.

"I think you've been playing me for a fool, Burley. It's all coming together now. I think you were playing the recovering alcoholic role just like that, a role. I think you came here with a plan. A strategic plan to discredit Tony to the point where in your warped little head, I'd fire him and with you here, hey, what the hell. Come back on board. We'd be together again, you and I. That's what you thought, isn't it? Here's a little spoiler for you. If Tony was knocked down by a bus tomorrow-" He glanced over at Tony and arched a brow. "Stay clear of busses tomorrow," before turning back to Stan, "I still wouldn't hire you back as my second in command. Because you were a lousy goddamned second in command. Always whining, always clinging to me like some sort of leech. We had nothing in common and you'd try everything to change that, it was embarrassing. Truth be told, I wanted to can you for a long time, but the Director wouldn't let me. And, sure, after a few years went by you were became bearable, and I could work with you."

His eyes frosted over even more as he took a deep breath.

"But I never _cared_ about you, Stan. Not the way I care about Tony, or Tim, or my girls. Sure, if you were shot, I would have cared but only because of the badge you wore. Not because of any personal feelings towards you. I put _up_ with you out of a sense of obligation and that sense of obligation is the same reason I let you in, let you back here. That's the one downside of the Marines. Obligation. Because sometimes, obligation is the wrong way to go and I was wrong this time. I should have directed you to the nearest AA meeting for your little act and shut my door in your face. But I didn't and as a result, you had the opportunity to try and damage one of my people. That's on me. That's my bad. But I will make that right, Stan. I will. And you'll be all alone, back wherever the hell it is you came from. Because you are done here. You're done."

Tony's jaw was in danger of finding the carpet as Stan suddenly wrenched himself free. Wiping blood from his eyes, he shook his head in disbelief as his mask continued to unravel. "You don't know what you're saying. There's no way in hell you could prefer that joker over me. You're talking shit, Boss. I was your best second in command, I was like a son to you, I-"

He was suddenly slammed with brute force back into the wall.

"You were never like a son to me!" Gibbs bellowed, flecks of spit flying into Stan's face. He jerked his head towards a stunned Tony by his side. " _He_ is like a son to me. _Tim_ is like a son to me. You were a damned employee, and a bad one at that. You were nothing to me, I took you in out of misplaced commitment and pity, not because I care or cared about you. You are nothing compared to him, or the rest of my team." He breathed heavily for a moment, rage coursing through him. "You remember Glenn, Burley? The junior agent on our team at the time? You remember that time you both got into it and I wrote you up, but not him? You remember coming to me and whining about it, asking why but you never got an answer. Here's the answer. I dealt with Glenn off the record. I punished him in a personal way because I didn't want to see his career hurt over an altercation with a creature like you. I cared about Glenn, not the way I do my team now, but I cared about him enough. I cared about him enough to put my own neck on the line and my own reputation, to save his. I never cared about you like that, I wrote you up more times than I have ever done an agent under my command my entire career and I did it without a second's thought."

He suddenly moved away, as if stricken with repulsion about being so close to Stan.

"You were always too desperate to be on my six. It made me uncomfortable. You were a boy then and you're a boy now. A sick, self centred, scheming boy. I have no time or energy to waste on you. You come in here, into my _home_ and try to hurt my family? You've not changed and you never will. So like I said, you're done here. Get your shit out of my spare room and get your spineless ass out of my ass. I never want to see you again and if I find you anywhere near my house, the Navy Yard or my people…I will not hesitate to snap your damned neck." He pointed to the stairs. "Now go. Get your stuff and get the hell out. I don't care where you go just as long as you don't ever come back." He took a step out of the way, moving closer to Tony and waited pointedly for Stan to do just that. Silence pressed upon the room as Burley wiped another congealing mass of blood from his forehead and stepped forwards. Gibbs moved instinctively in front of Tony and arched a challenging brow.

Stan sniggered then, his mask all but gone and shrugged his shoulders.

"He really is your prize poodle, isn't he Boss? You're right….you were never like that with me."

Gibbs' fist twitched.

"Don't call me Boss. I'm not your boss…thank Christ."

Stan grinned a demonic grin and both Tony and Gibbs stared as he devolved right in front of their eyes. He moved closer to them as they stood side by side and his lopsided, cold grin grew even wider. "I studied him, you know. Your pet here. I tried to understand what made him so damned special. And I still don't know the answer. He's a screw up. He doesn't have two brain cells to rub together and frankly he's an embarrassment to the-"

Fresh blood spurted everywhere as Gibbs' fist finally flew free and connected with a very available nose. "Keep talking, and I'll break your neck," the shaking agent growled. "Get out of my house. Get out of my house and my life _now._ I won't ask again." Staggering back from the force of the blow and the surprise that went with it, Stan looked down at the fresh pooling of blood dripping onto his hand and stared at in a daze. A cruel look of rage suddenly gleaned in his eyes as he looked up at a united front staring back at him. This time, when he spoke, it was to Tony. "You really think you're better than me, DiNozzo? You really think he's going to keep you around? What do you think he's been saying about you behind your back, to me? You think he's this loyal to you when you're not around?" He laughed coolly, the mirth nowhere near his dead eyes. "Think again, DiNozzo. You're dispensable to him, just like me."

Tony, out of sheer instinct, raised his head high and kept his voice calm.

"I am nothing like you, Stan. In life or to Gibbs. Now, you've been asked to leave. So leave."

In that moment, something triggered. Maybe it was the truth of the matter, or maybe it was because Tony was the one to speak the words. Whatever it was, it was the undoing of the tenuous grip Stan had on reality. The noises that the nosy neighbours down the street were craning to hear, weren't as simple as they sounded. There was more to them, much more to those noises. Something far more sinister than fisticuffs and raised voices. Standing there and realising that the bond between the two men was as unbreakable as it got, Stan broke. His plan was foiled, his future was bleak and all he had ever wanted was disintegrating before his very eyes. All it took was one look at Gibbs' face to know there was no coming back. The protective stance he had taken in front of Tony told him everything he needed to know.

And he couldn't take it.

His mind snapped harder and faster than any mind ought to snap.

The roars of pain and scuffling were immediate and they were intense, as three men dove into action. Gibbs, reacting quicker than he had ever done in his life, shoved Tony with all his strength and sent him spiralling into a nearby corner. He and Stan scuffled ferociously, Burley having the advantage of youth and Gibbs the benefit of experience. Both however, knew each other's next move, and the battle was intense. Grunts and yelps of pain were elicited on both sides as Tony dazedly got to his feet, unsure as to what the hell had just happened. When he saw the intertwined bodies tussling violently on the floor, he raced to Gibbs' six. Entering the foray, the vicious fight became even more deadly as Masie down the street put a pudgy hand over her mouth in shock, signalling violently for her husband to come out and have a gander. The yells continued for another moment until a sharp, breaking sound pierced the night and with it, ceased all noise. The breeze blew away the remnants of the disturbance and the neighbourhood was once against blanketed in a pleasant, balmy silence, pierced only by the frantic movements of more and more neighbours giving way to their curiosity.

In amongst the detritus of Gibbs' usually pristine living room however, it was a different story.

Save for the slow gate of a fired weapon as it sluggishly spinned to a halt, nothing was moving.

More worryingly, no one was moving.

No one at all.

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One more chapter and done! I have to say this one was a super fun story to write so I really hope you've all enjoyed it too!

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	15. Chapter 15

A halting finger was placed on the slowly swirling gun.

Tim stalked into the room where Gibbs, Tony and Stan stood stationary in a veritable blood bath. Tony and Gibbs gaped as he walked towards a bleeding Stan and stopped directly in front of him, eying him silently. The punch seemed to come in slow motion and land with a bone crunching accuracy. Stan crumpled. As calm as when he was in his mathematical happy place, Tim bent down and caught the unconscious man by the scruff his neck and hauled him to his feet, supporting his weight with distaste splashed across his face at the closeness it required. He pivoted to face an utterly bewildered Tony and Gibbs and spoke quietly, an unusual rage bouncing in every syllable.

"I went back to that company and insisted they show me all the CCTV they had. They don't trust their employees very much because there was a camera in that office today and it showed, quite clearly, this piece of filth putting that USB in Tony's pocket." He glanced around the room and read it, before letting out a grim chuckle. "But I guess you two already know that, huh?" He looked at the lamp he had shot, its intestines spewed across the floor in a ceramic spatter and winced. "Sorry about your lamp, Boss, but I needed to break you three up before someone really got hurt." He looked at the slumped Stan in disgust. "Or before one of you had to do jail time for this creature." He focussed his gaze on Tony.

"Are you ok?"

Somehow, the SFA managed to nod. "I'm all good, Probie. All good." There was a constricted quality to his voice and Gibbs looked away as the two had somewhat of a moment, their communication non verbal. Seeming satisfied, Tim turned his gaze to the team-lead with the question evident in his eyes. Gibbs nodded imperceptibly, the _I got him_ implicit. Struggling somewhat under the weight of the carcass leaning against him, Tim fumbled in his pocket for his keys. "I'm dropping him off at an ER somewhere. Whatever he has here can be left outside in a black bag if he wants it, I'll come back for it. I'm gonna go now and give you some time to….well, I'm gonna go now." He hesitated. "Unless there's something else you want to say to him?" he added, his nose wrinkling in distaste. Gibbs shook his head slowly.

"I will never have another word to say to him. Get him out of my house, and Tim…thank you."

Tony cleared his throat, still staring at Tim with that wide eyed look and nodded.

"Thanks Tim."

Nodding silently, the youngest of the three manhandled the cause of much consternation out of the living room, out the door and down the driveway with impressive ease, shutting the door quietly behind him. When the sounds of the car crunching away wafted into the house, Gibbs and Tony turned to look at each other silently, neither knowing just what in the good hell to say.

"I know it was a bit of a violent ending but that lamp _was_ pretty ugly, Boss. I'd say Tim definitely did you a favour with that one." Gibbs blinked rather stupidly for a moment before snorting in laughter, the seriousness of the moment being such an odd contrast to Tony's never failing ability to relieve the tension. But he quickly sobered up as the guilt truck hit him and he saw in HD clarity how stupid he'd been, the kind of fool he'd been taken for. Crossing the room in three strides, he returned a moment later with two beers and motioned to the sofa. Collapsing on it side by side, they twisted the beers open.

Both men sat in silence for a moment, the cold drink a welcome relief.

"I was a blind old man."

Tony choked on his beer. "You're finally admitting you're old? Ziva owes me twenty bucks."

Rolling his eyes, Gibbs sighed and picked at the label on his bottle. "Tony, I'm being serious. I should have listened to you. You told me what he was and I knew deep down something wasn't right, but I just didn't want to see it. I trained him from nothing and to think that he could come back after all this years and do something like this…I just couldn't bring myself to see it. I knew he had problems and I still didn't see it. And a big part of that is because I felt guilty, I felt like I owed him. I knew he was still screwed in the head when he took that Agent Afloat job and I didn't say anything because frankly, I wanted shot of him. He could have been seriously injured in a job like that with that sort of attitude and I just waved him off and breathed a sigh of relief…and got myself a new second in command. And then I never gave him a second thought. So when he turned up on my door with a sob story about being a recovering alcoholic, I thought it was my fault. I felt like I had to be that helped him because I was the one who let him down the last time."

He scrubbed a hand across his eyes.

"But he was just playing me. He was always…clingy with me, in a creepy way. I should have realised this was all about getting his job back. I _definitely_ should have realised it was what he wanted when you flat out told me. But I didn't because I'm an idiot." He forced himself to look up from his beer and look his protégé in the eye. "Tony, I'm sorry. All this…this is my fault. I didn't trust your instincts and I put you and your job on the line." He swallowed. "When I think about sending he and you into the field together…anything could have happened." He shook his head and muttered under his breath. "Stupid fool…"

It was against Tony's instincts but he managed to bite back the reassurance that flew to his lips.

"You made me feel like shit," he said quietly. "You put him above me, even though you said you wouldn't, and you took his word over mine. I felt like I couldn't talk to you without you taking my head off. You wouldn't even listen to me when I said something was off about him. I was just the bad guy. You made me feel like I was jealous of a new baby or something. And yeah, ok, maybe I was at first. But then I _knew_ something was off about him. I know I screw around a lot, Boss, and I know I can work your last nerve but I _am_ a good Agent. I know when something isn't adding up, or when someone is off. That's a combination of my own gut and what you taught me and after a decade of being on each other's six, I would have thought my word would carry some weight."

Gibbs flinched at the quiet tone of hurt, but couldn't and wouldn't refute a single word.

"Like I said, I've been a stupid old man. I can't take it back, Tony. I can't take any of it back. Stan was something I screwed up since the day I met him and I should have known this wouldn't have been any better." He took a long draught and stared down at the floor. Tony looked at him for a moment, before sighing. "Next time I tell you that something isn't sitting right, will you give me the benefit of the doubt?" Gibbs nodded immediately. "I promise. I know a promise isn't much coming from me right now, but it's the best I got." Tony tilted his head in acknowledgement with a wry grin playing about his lips. "So the great Gibbs isn't perfect, huh? Who'd have thunk it?" The older man blushed with a growl.

"If ever there was an imperfect person, it's me. I should be on billboards."

Tony raised a brow. "I don't think any law abiding motorist deserves to have you glaring down at them," he mumbled. "Anyway, where do we go from here? Stan's gone and I don't think he'll be coming back but I can't pretend I'm not pissed off about how all this went down. And I'm not used to…well it's usually the other way around. It's usually you that's angry with me. I don't know how to be angry with you." Gibbs smiled with a shrug. "Ring Diane. She wrote the play book on how to be angry with me. She'd love to see McGee again, if nothing else." Spluttering with a very welcome bout of laughter, Tony shook his head. "I don't think ex-spousal anger is really _us,_ Boss. Much as I love you and all, I don't really see us making pancakes in the morning in our short shorts after make-up sex."

Gibbs rolled his eyes.

"Watch it you."

"Can I rack here tonight?" Tony asked suddenly. "I don't really feel like an empty apartment after…everything." Nodding immediately, Gibbs took another long draught. "You know you never need to ask. You want something to eat? I reckon we have enough time for some of that disgusting salami stuff you like before Masie down the street has every cop in the city at my door." Tony smirked, having had one-on-one experience with the infamous Masie. "I'm surprised she isn't hammering on the door already, with McMuggles under her arm." Gibbs stared. "McMuggles?" Standing, Tony stretched. "How can you not know the name of that woman's cat? It's the lion in cat's clothing that ate all your flowers last year?"

"She told me that it was Hutchinson's dog."

"I guess your gut really is letting you down these days then."

Gibbs grimaced and Tony bit his tongue as the unexpected barb flew past his lips. But damnit, he was angry. He had every right to be angry and he was going to continue to be angry until it ran its course. "It is," the older man admitted, "But I don't really give a crap about it letting me down about a few flowers…I _do_ care about it letting me down when it comes to you." He also stood and drew a deep breath. He knew what he was about to say wasn't going to make things right and he had a lot of making up to do, but he had to say it before he lost his nerve.

"Tony. What I said to Stan? I meant that. You…you're like a son to me. I know I never say that. Because I have emotional constipation, or whatever you call it, but you are. So I know I've royally screwed the pooch here and I hate myself for it. I can apologise till the cows come home but it won't take back what I failed to do. You're pissed and you have every right to be. I give you hell when you don't listen to me, the least I can do is listen to you. Your instincts are good, Tony, they're some of the best and when you came to me; I should have taken my head out of my ass and listened to you. All I can do is promise to do and be better the next time. If you'll have me."

Tony was flabbergasted for a moment and said absolutely nothing.

He knew he looked up to Gibbs as a father and he'd had his suspicions that he felt the same way. But the actual vocalisation of the fact rocketed in his ears like a firework. He was still angry, but he couldn't deny the warmth that was spreading from his core and surging to tingle in his fingertips. The two men stared at each other for a moment, in the wreckage of what had been a pristine living room, with nothing but silence between them. Gibbs' heart was hammering with the fear that his rare emotional display would be rejected and that his relationship with Tony was damaged beyond repair. For his part, Tony was simply rendered speechless. As the seconds trickled on and not a word was uttered, Gibbs was beginning to feel the strains of despair. But before he could cough uncomfortably and try to back pedal, the option was suddenly taken out of his hands.

The hug was uncharacteristic but it was far from unwelcome.

Ruffling Tony's hair gently as they broke away, Gibbs smiled his crooked smile.

"Is it too optimistic to think I'm partially forgiven then?"

Tony smirked.

"Yup. It's your turn to be in the doghouse, Boss. I'm moving out."

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A/N: Fin! Hope you guys enjoyed!

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